


Say Something Before I Go Crazy Now

by KillingVillanelle



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Death, Ethical altruism vs Ethical Egoism, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Like everything in my goddamn life...now featuring smut, Slow Burn, Therapist Eve, Therapy, Wealthy Villanelle, because of ethical reasons, because that's what everyone on that show needs, but let's be real this is going to get really unethical, but not the wild child, well on Villanelle's part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 56,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillingVillanelle/pseuds/KillingVillanelle
Summary: "I was wondering if we could switch to weekly sessions?" Villanelle asks, biting her lip to contain a smirk."Why?""Well, with this movie and stuff. I'm worried it might stir up some stuff and you are so good at helping me. Only if you can fit it in your schedule.""I can. Anything to help you," Eve says, not hiding the way her eyes traveled down to Villanelle's lips."Anything?"Or the one where Eve is a very ethical and rule following therapist and Villanelle is her most challenging client to date.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 424
Kudos: 1249





	1. Frustrating, but Intriguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting the first chapter because y'all pissed me the fuck off. Start tagging your goddamn spoilers on Twitter.

"This smells splendid, Nadia," Villanelle says while taking her coffee from the barista who she just fucked a few hours earlier in her flat on the top floor of the building. 

Nadia blushes and leans against the counter. "Are you busy tonight?"

"So eager." Villanelle smirks while pulling out her phone and pretending to look at her calendar, which she knows is empty for after work. "I'm sorry, it looks like I'm busy tonight with some dinner."

"Oh," Nadia sighs. "Well, I could come over after?"

Villanelle frowns while sliding her phone back in her pocket of her red trousers. Nadia is becoming needy and Villanelle is worried she thinks their dating. "I'll call you?"

It seems to satisfy Nadia who nods and walks over to the customer that just walked in. A hipster looking 20 something year old who probably works for  _ Villanelle _ magazine yet doesn't even know his boss and namesake of the magazine is a few steps away. He flips around his crossbody backpack and  _ Villanelle _ is plastered on the side in red lettering on the white canvas.

She rolls her eyes and takes her coffee, 'accidentally' bumping into him.

"Oi! Watch where you're going!" The man grumbles.

Villanelle smiles and turns around. "Do you work here?"

He turns and looks her up and down. He must sense her importance, she's dressed in a red Victoria Beckham suit with no shirt on under the blazer. "Yeah, I'm a photographer."

She nods, speaking, "Have you ever taken a cover picture?" She knows the answer is no, because she would recognize him. "Actually, have you taken any pictures of the people  _ I _ put in the magazine? Or do you just put some products on a green background then send the pictures to an editor to insert into  _ my _ magazine?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"know I was your boss and the reason you work here? I like to think my employees care a little more about their job to at least know who they work for."

"I do! I just didn't see it was you-not that I should have been rude to anyone."

Villanelle smiles at his uncomfortable panic. "What's your name?"

He gives it to her and she pulls her phone out and puts it in, before walking away without a word. The knowledge that he is probably about to piss his pants because he thinks he's going to lose his job is enough to turn Villanelle's mood around from the annoyance Nadia caused. She pops in her airpods and steps outside into the snipping London air.

People check her out as she walks past them, but they didn't last in her mind very long. There is one person she wanted to see and is delighted it is a Monday. Typically this should be a Friday night dinner outfit. Sometimes, it needed to be a Monday 8 am therapy outfit.

She clicks the ineffective button at the spotlight about a dozen times before the light changes to red just because enough time has passed. Her red  _ fuck me _ Louboutin's click in the street, as she walks expertly in them. Sidewalks are still wet from last night's rain. 

Her hand pushes open the glass door to _Martens_ _Counseling_ and she checks in at the front office before stepping on the elevator to head up to her therapist's office.

* * *

"Why do you think you loved her?"

Gentle tapping of a pencil against a notepad filled the room, preventing the silence.

"She-"

"No, no, no." The therapist uncrosses her legs and leans forward to grab her water off the glass top of the coffee table. As she leans back, she says, "Why do _you_ think you loved her? What makes you think what you felt was love?"

Cars honk outside the 13 story building. The therapist's office is only on the sixth floor, not giving the best view, but allowing for the nagging thought of, _what if I jumped?_

"I never felt what I felt when I was with her before. I only felt that when I was with her."

A small _hmmm_ is the answer back along with the squeak of a pencil against a yellow notepad. Then it stops. "You've told me before that you don't feel much and struggle with differentiating emotions so could this feeling have been mixed up with another feeling? Maybe admiration?"

"Ha." Villanelle bites her thumbnail while staring out the window. "I never admired her."

"Why not?"

"She was poor. Unhappy. She refused to do what she wanted. What's admirable about that?"

"Was it possible she was sacrificing doing what she wanted for you or someone else?"

"I didn't force her to be with me. I didn't go after her."

"Villanelle, we can only make progress if you are honest with me."

"I was sixteen. She was forty. Do you really think it would be possible for me to manipulate her? As an adult-as my teacher she should have refused!" Villanelle takes a breath to calm down. 

"I agree she should have refused and yes, you were sixteen. Now, you're twenty-six and still thinking about her because you claim you loved her," the therapist sits the notepad and pencil down, studying Villanelle. "Why do you think you loved her?"

Villanelle sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "I was happy when I was with her. I always felt like I made her proud and that made my chest feel warm. My brain felt… normal when I was with her. Like the haziness of emotions went away and I could truly experience things with her. I wasn't angry or annoyed by her."

"So because she didn't upset you, you loved her?"

"I…"

"Do I upset you?" The therapist asks.

"No," Villanelle replies and stands up. She slides her hands into her red pleated trousers while walking towards the floor to ceiling window. "Do I upset you?"

"So since I don't upset you, are you in love with me?"

Villanelle smirks and looks at her therapist in the reflection of the glass. "You ignored my question."

"You don't upset me, but some of the people in your past upset me," her therapist answers. "Now answer my question." She had gotten used to playing this game with Villanelle where they take turns asking questions, but for the most part, it always worked because Villanelle always had questions, and the therapist always needed answers.

"I do not know. You are my therapist so I think no. But if we met out there. I took you on a date, got you dancing, made you laugh out there and not in here- where I could hear your real laugh- I think I would be." Villanelle stares at a small bar on the base floor of a building across from the one she's in now. It's three doors down from _Villanelle_ on the corner of the intersection. Her therapist doesn't answer so Villanelle goes ahead and asks her question. "Does Anna upset you?"

"Yes. She took advantage of a student who needed a parent figure. She abused her authority over you."

"You think I loved Anna because Mommy killed Daddy and then herself?" Villanelle turns and looks at her therapist. "Quite the theory." _Also missing quite a bit of the details,_ Villanelle mused.

"I think you were at a very sensitive point in your teenage years that most girls want a mother's approval and affection but also far enough in puberty that you were sexually attracted to Anna and so it was the best of both worlds. You got to have someone that gave you attention, and was proud of your achievements and looked out for you, but also someone to _fuck._ "

Villanelle raises her eyebrows. In 6 years, this was the first therapist to last more than a couple months of bi-monthly sessions and the first therapist to openly curse in front of her. This was also the first therapist to find out about Anna. "We did have _a lot_ of sex." Villanelle taps on her chin while feigning to be deep in thought. "Especially on her husband's chair. Maybe that's a sign of my daddy issues."

"You're getting angry," her therapist says so simply that it makes Villanelle pause. "I think when I'm getting close to the truth you get defensive and start making jokes to cover your anger." The therapist picks her notepad and pencil back up and smiles at Villanelle.

Villanelle's jaw twitches and her nostrils flare the slightest amount. Then like a switch, she nods and laughs. Gives a small clap. "You know pride is a deadly sin?"

"As well as you know lust is," her therapist instantly fires back. Then she gives a contained laugh and gestures to the couch across from her and Villanelle takes the seat. "Why do you think you loved her?"

Villanelle licks her lips and studies her therapist. Her glasses are sliding down her nose as she reads something she wrote on her notepad, not noticing Villanelle staring. Her hair is pulled back and she has a dark green turtle-neck on. Nothing Villanelle would ever wear, but it looked really good on her. Definitely, the most attractive therapist Villanelle has had so far. Also, the first to not just pity Villanelle. She pushed her buttons and really tried to get inside Villanelle's mind. Praised her when she talked about her progress in the jiu-jitsu class she recommended and seemed to truly understand Villanelle's struggle with boredom. She was the first person Villanelle wanted to truly be herself with, and not worried that the reaction of the things she says or does will make her hate Villanelle.

"I didn't."

"What?" Her therapist looks up in surprise.

"I was obsessed with what she gave me. Not her. Anybody could have given me what she did and I would have felt like that for them. Her actual personality did nothing for me. She was too quiet, too modest, too… moralistic." The exact opposite of what Villanelle is learning her therapist is.

"You changed your mind very quickly for spending ten years thinking you were in love with her," she points out.

"I had an epiphany," Villanelle replies.

Her therapist glances towards the window and points her thumb towards it. "Is God out there?"

Villanelle laughs until settling on a smile. "No, but there was a guy streaking with a ukulele."

"Nice. Have to love living in the city." She sets her notepad back down after writing a few more things. "So, our next session is the twelfth one."

"Ooo, six months together. Should I bring flowers and chocolates?" Villanelle asks.

"No, probably- Yeah. Okay, you can bribe me with chocolates."

Villanelle smiles, claps, and stands alongside her therapist. She shakes her hand and starts walking away.

"See you in two weeks, Villanelle."

Villanelle opens the door and turns back, leaning against the door. "I'll see you in two weeks, Eve."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also love all y'all and I hope you all appreciate the fic and ignore the fact that I still need to finish a couple other ones because I've got a shit ton of this one written in advance already. Updates are gonna be on Sundays and Thursdays. Learn how to fucking tag spoilers. :)


	2. Trust me, I think about you way too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I POSTED THIS CHAPTER ONCE BUT IT WOULDN'T UPDATE SO IM POSTING IT AGAIN

Eve never planned on being a therapist. She went to school originally for criminology and put a few years in at MI5. Her dream was to be a spy. Then there was a case of an ambassador's son who murdered his whole family and didn't feel any remorse yet understood why he was going to be locked away. Eve knew then she wanted in their minds. 

So she became a therapist for people with violent pasts. Most of her patients, that's what they talked about. How to deal with violent tendencies and to get them out. That's their problem and she helps. 

Carolyn Martens called her one day and offered her the job of her lifetime. 

Typically richer patients that pay very good for her confidence. Celebrities seen in the news for being wonderful and generous would spend in hour in Eve’s office talking about how they want to strangle a fan.

Then there's Villanelle. 

Eve didn't have a clue why Villanelle was referred to her because she didn't give anything up about any physical harm she's caused to anyone. All Eve knew when Villanelle first walked in was she legally has to be in therapy to stay co-owner of a company with her uncle, after she was diagnosed with psychopathy.

The more Eve got to know Villanelle, the more she didn't feel like that was a correct diagnosis. 

While not learning about her violent behavior to land her diagnosis, she's learned about Villanelle's parents, and Anna, who was nowhere in her files. Eve noted that down and leaned back in her office chair with an exhausted sigh.

Villanelle is so different than any other patient she’s ever had. She’s flamboyant and she tests Eve’s patience in the best way possible. Her humor is dark but not ashamed. Obvious flirting, that Eve constantly had to ignore. 

Villanelle liked sex. A lot. And she had absolutely no problem telling Eve about her sexual endeavors. 

She liked to try to have control in their sessions.

Control is something Villanelle is afraid of losing. She didn’t do drugs, she didn’t drink very often and if so it was just a single glass of champagne or wine. She is refined, but feral. There is a way Villanelle smiles every now and then, that sends chills down Eve’s back. Predators in the wild will bare their teeth as a threat and that was the only thing Eve could compare it to.

With a glance at the clock, Eve groans and falls forward against her desk. Villanelle has been out of her office for three hours and Eve’s done nothing but think about the woman. Not her upcoming 1 o’clock, or her date with her husband tonight. 

“Bad time?”

Eve looks up at the voice.

Her best friend, Bill, stands in the doorway holding a brown paper bag and a cup holder with steaming coffee. He grins and walks in. Bill stills works at MI5 but he takes his lunch late so he can come and have lunch with Eve before her afternoon session. Sitting down across from her, he raises an expectant eyebrow as she takes the coffee and opens the bag of food.

“Do you know anyone that’s so frustrating, but intriguing? Like there are two completely opposite people in them?” Eve asks.

“I know you,” Bill teases and unwraps his sandwich. “Is it that new patient?”

“I wouldn’t consider them new anymore, but yeah.” Eve didn’t give up much information about her patients, not even gender. But she confided in Bill when a patient was stressing her out or excited her. Whether they made progress or weren’t making progress. 

“What are they like?”

“Oh god,” Eve grabs her coffee and stands up, taking position where Villanelle stood a few hours prior. “They’re completely open with me, but entirely inaccessible. Anytime I learn one thing, there’s a hundred other things I’m not learning. They’re flamboyant, they like attention and praise. They’re attractive, and _fuck_ do they know it. Arrogant as all get out but not that annoying arrogant, you know? Oh! And it’s not that cosmetic surgery, personal trainer, nutriousnist, celebrity attractive. It’s just them.” Eve glances over her left shoulder at Bill.

He’s leaning over the back of his chair, a smirk and raised eyebrow plastered on his face. “Are you allowed to have a crush on your patients?” 

“Oh my god, Bill. I don’t have a crush on them.” Eve rolls her eyes and looks back out the window, watching people walk on the sidewalk. “And crush? Really? We’re adults.”

“All I’m saying is, are you allowed to describe your patient as flamboyant, and attractive? To me that sounds a bit like conflict of interest.”

“That’s what they are, though. I shouldn’t even be describing my patients to you.”

“But you do anyway. So what did they say today, that has you so… frazzled up?” 

_She said she might be in love with me._

“I just have no understanding why they were referred to me. You know I deal with more violent patients. Ones with domestic violence or assaults on their record. This patient has absolutely nothing on their record and doesn’t behave aggressive. They’re always very much in control of themself. No substance abuse, a little bit sexually promiscuous but like I said they are quite arrogant so that doesn’t surprise me. No gambling addiction, or any addictions for that habit. They like to spend money on lavish things though. Expensive clothes, cars, I would assume an expensive flat in the city somewhere. They travel a lot, but it’s all in their lifestyle range. They aren’t living in debt or anything.” Eve turns and leans back against the window. “They are just a normal, wealthy person, with a bit of trauma in their past. No reason to be referred to me than a normal therapist.”

Eve didn’t like that statement at all. Villanelle isn’t normal at all. She’s her own type of human that doesn’t fit any stereotype or category. 

“Do you think they’re capable of violence?”

Eve considers it. Villanelle got a little too excited about 'accidentally' hurting another student in her jiu-jitsu class. Knew a little too much about kitchen knives and how to perfectly butcher an animal. _That_ was a weird session where Villanelle brought in a homemade breakfast for the two and then told Eve that over the weekend she traveled to some farm just to learn how to butcher a pig. Her reasoning was along the lines of, ' _I was just bored and curious.'_

Eve nods.

“Well, maybe that’s why. You’re the prevention so they don’t. Who referred them?”

“Carolyn.”

Carolyn Martens runs the counseling office made up of a couple dozen therapists. There is a therapist for anything and everything and they were the best in London. So that fact that when Villanelle called and Carolyn chose Eve out of a bunch of therapists, made no sense to her.

“Really? Then she must have thought you would be the best to help them.”

“I have no idea.” Eve turns back around. “I just hope she isn’t looking for a reason to fire me.”

“Just don’t touch your very attractive, and very arrogant patient and she shouldn’t have a reason.” As Bill speaks, Eve’s eyes are drawn to someone wearing a solid red suit, a pop of bright, flamboyant color in the mess of people. She was the only one not moving and instead, staring right at Eve’s office. “Which since your _married_ shouldn’t be a problem at all?”

Villanelle lifts her hand and waves at Eve. The corner of Eve’s lip raise, but she doesn’t wave back and she knows even if Villanelle can't see her smile, she knows it's there. “Even if I wasn’t married, it wouldn’t be a problem. They’re my patient, nothing will ever happen between us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this fic :) I'm glad y'all like it too


	3. Warmest Regards

To'ak Chocolates are reserved as one of the best, and most luxurious in the world. Almost two hundred pounds per a two-ounce bar and Villanelle purchases everyone of the six different 2015 aged ones. If Eve wanted chocolates, she wanted to impress Eve with the best. Eve only deserved the best.

Then she dropped another 600 on a La Fleur acrylique square arrangement with white gold and regular gold premium preserved roses. They should last her until she whenever she wanted more. 

Villanelle slides her credit card back in her wallet before closing the page and resuming to read over articles for the magazine in a couple months.

"Miss Astankova? There is someone here to you," her assistant buzzes and Villanelle sits up in her chair, removing her feet from the black forest marble top of her Bernhardt desk and then frowns. She wasn't expecting anyone. 

"Who?" Villanelle asks while picking up a pen and tapping it against her desk.

There's a moment of silence before her assistant responds. "He says his name is Hugo?"

Villanelle scoffs. "Send him in," she answers before standing and walking over to her window. She worked on the second floor down from the top and lived on the top floor. Across the street, if she looked to the middle of the building, there is Eve's office. She hadn't told Eve, and it had been a complete coincidence but Villanelle wasn't going to complain. The lights to Eve's office stayed off all day today. Villanelle debated sending Eve an email for an extra session and then canceling once she arrived just so Eve was in the office.

_ That was too close to stalking, wasn't it? _ Villanelle shakes her head and laughs to herself. Stalking her therapist would be a new low for her.

"How much do you pay for a view like that?"

Villanelle turns and looks at Hugo. "More than you make in a year. Why are you here?"

"Early uni reunion?" Hugo shrugs and sits down on one of Villanelle's white suede couches. "I want to make a movie."

"Okay? You wanted to make a movie in university too. Why are you  _ here _ ?" Villanelle makes her way to her mini-fridge to grab a water. She grabs an extra for Hugo.

"Money."

"You want me to give you money?" 

Hugo takes the water and watches as Villanelle sits across from him in a red armchair. "Loan, but yeah."

"And why would I do that? The last time I saw you, you got drunk at my art exhibition." Villanelle crosses her legs, left ankle resting on right knee. Her navy pinstripe pant leg rides up exposing a dark purple bruised ankle.

"Still getting into trouble?" Hugo asks while looking at her ankle.

"What is the movie about?"

Hugo shrugs. "I don't know."

"Hugo, you are wasting my time."

"I want to make a movie based on you."

" _ Wow _ ," Villanelle smiles, "there's nothing to tell, unfortunately."

"Nothing to tell?" Hugo practically gasps. "You're 26 and an editor-in-chief of one of the biggest fashion magazines in the world, named after you. And, you co-own the company which publishes it and a dozen other magazines.”

"And all of that's just because my father was murdered because my mother was...."  _ jealous,  _ “mentally unstable.”

"Your father's story is just the beginning of yours, Villanelle. Wife killing husband and herself leaving a daughter behind to inherit millions? You're like fucking Batman if Batman's mom killed his dad."

Villanelle stands up and pulls on her blazer. "Hugo, we're done here. I don't need some movie that embellishes my life starring some B-rated actress."

"I don't want some B-rated actress. I want you." Hugo throws out to draw Villanelle back in.

"You know, you should be paying me for trying to win an Oscar on my life. Not the other way around?" Villanelle pauses in front of her desk not turning around.

"Is that a yes?" 

"If you get a grant, I will pay for it." She runs her fingers on the edge of the marble before turning. "What all will you include?"

"We'd have to make a contract but I want to include everything. Nothing off-limits. I want people to know Villanelle Astankova."

Villanelle frowns. The world may know her as that kid whose mom killed her dad in front of her, but they didn't know about why her mom killed her dad. They didn't know about Anna. It could hurt her image.

"But we only worry about that if I get a grant, right?" Hugo smirks.

Villanelle nods and holds out her hand.

Hugo takes it and shakes it. "You're different."

"New therapist."

"It seems to be working."

"Let go of my hand, Hugo."

"Do you want to have sex?" He asks while dropping her hand.

Her head tilts as she wipes her hand off on her pants. “No.”

“Really?” Hugo laughs. “You sure you’re not in love with this new therapist?”

“Oh, I am. We should make a movie about  _ that _ . Loveless editor-in-chief falls in love with her therapist. To make it even more tragic you could kill one of us in the end.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “I want to make a true story, Villanelle.”

“You don’t think me falling in love with my therapist is believable?”

“No, not at all. Have you ever loved anyone?” Hugo asks.

“Is this where I’m supposed to admit I was madly in love with you back in uni?” Villanelle jokes about their old friends with benefits routine.

“Piss off.” He laughs and heads towards the door. “I’ll see you soon.” The arrogance is unbelievable and just lingers after he leaves.

Villanelle makes her way over to her desk chair and falls back it in, head bouncing off the top of it. She stares at the ceiling and uses her knees to sway the chair. There were some articles she needed to read over for May's magazine, but one day off wouldn't kill her. 

Her finger presses against a button. "Do I have any scheduled meetings for today?"

"Your next meeting is Monday at 8 am with Eve Polastri, Ms. Astankova," the assistant answers. She was brand new and obviously not going to last very long.

But it also meant Villanelle had a weekend to herself. She ought to go out of town for a little bit. Maybe visit Amsterdam.

"Thanks, Cassandra," Villanelle answers.

Her assistant's name isn't Cassandra.

Villanelle fills her Burberry backpack up with a few files and locks up her office. She glances at her assistant, "I'm going to be out of London for the weekend. If anyone calls or wants a meeting set them up at any free-time in the next week." Villanelle is well on the way to the elevator when her assistant calls out to her.

"By the way, your uncle's birthday is tomorrow!"

Villanelle stops and she mentally checks the date to see if that's right. April 2. Konstantin’s birthday was April 3.  _ Fuck _ .

Of course, it is.

With the bitchiest smile she can muster, Villanelle turns around to her to face her assistant. "Does that mean his birthday dinner is tonight?"

"Uh… yes. It does, Ms. Astankova."

"Do you think that would have been important to tell me when I asked if I had anymore meetings today?"

"Yes, it-"

"The next time you give me the wrong information, I will fire you, okay?"

* * *

Villanelle is the only person at the table who orders water. Everyone else goes with an expensive wine. She doesn't even know most of these people, even if they've all posed for their respective social media, ' _ Happy Birthday, Konstantin, _ ' posts. Her and Konstantin stepped off to the side and got a picture together because her outfit was too good to not post but she knew people would get pissed off if she posted a picture by herself. 

This was all just for publicity and Villanelle is fucking bored. 

Konstantin is sitting across from her and makes a facial expression of disapproval.

Villanelle pouts and looks down at her salad. She picks up her fork and stabs at it before sighing and looking around the room.

Oh. 

This  _ is _ interesting.

A thimble looking man with a horrendous offending mustache was seated in probably a J. Crew or Banana Republic suit. Definitely not tailored. Across from him, was what caught Villanelle's interest. 

In a strappy blue dress, Eve Polastri sits across from her husband. 

_ Well, this isn't stalking _ .

Villanelle didn't  _ know _ Eve was coming to this restaurant. She didn't even choose this restaurant. Konstantin had made these reservations months ago.

So for the rest of dinner, Villanelle stays out of the conversation for the most part and watches as Eve barely laughs at her husband. Villanelle makes Eve laugh more in a depressing therapy session than Niko makes Eve laugh. Then Eve gets up and heads towards the restroom.

"Excuse me," Villanelle says suddenly, interrupting the table's conversation. She doesn't spare a glance back before hurrying to the bathroom.

Eve's in a stall, so Villanelle makes her way to a mirror. She washes her hands. Leans forward and checks herself out in the mirror. Her Alberta Ferretti black mini-dress looked good. Her make-up looked good, but to not seem too suspicious, she pulls out her lipstick and reapplies it as a toilet flushes behind her. 

A small gasp of surprise sounds behind her.

Villanelle looks up in the mirror and spots Eve. She fakes surprise with widening her eyes and turns around. "Eve, it's so nice to see you!"

"What are you doing here?" Eve asks, confused and slightly distrusting.

"It's my uncle's birthday," Villanelle offers. She walks over and grabs a paper towel while Eve washes her hands.

"Oh. Konstantin, right?"

"Yes, glad to know you think about me enough to remember stuff without that notepad." Villanelle tosses her paper towel in the trash and leans against the wall.

Eve scoffs. "Trust me, I think about you way too much."

Villanelle raises an eyebrow. 

"I- _ fuck _ . I didn't mean it like that. I shouldn't…"

"Do I intimidate you, Eve?"

"What do you do for work?" Eve asks.

"You haven't googled me?"

"Of course not, I want you to tell me everything, not some tabloid."

"Have you had a few drinks, Eve?" Villanelle asks.

"One, why?" Eve dries her hands off and tosses the paper towel away. She leans against the wall opposite Villanelle.

"Feels like you might be flirting with me."

"I’m definitely not. You're my client."

" _ And _ you're husband is out there?" Villanelle asks, realizing mustache man is not going to be an issue at all. "You never answered my question."

"What?"

"Do I intimidate you?" Villanelle asks.

Eve straightens up and prepares to exit the bathroom. "Not at all. If anything I feel more relaxed around you. Probably too relaxed."

Villanelle chuckles. "Definitely too relaxed. You should always be on your toes around me."

Eve laughs too and shakes her head. "It was nice to run into you. I'll see you Monday." Her hand presses on the door.

"Eve," Villanelle calls out to stop her. She grins when Eve stops. "I think about you, too." The statement is punctuated with a wink, resulting in the most adorable flush of pink on Eve’s face. Not hot, or sexy, but just a beautiful shade of pink that makes Villanelle’s  _ feel _ .

Villanelle stays in the bathroom for a moment, smiling to herself and letting her eyes shut. Her body feels warm, relaxed, and…  _ happy _ . Not the fleeting enjoyment that she got when she gets what she wants, but long-lasting, bubbling, intense happiness.

And she likes it a lot.

She likes Eve a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me on sundays and thursdays is like that gif of sandra yelling killing eve because im always so excited to post the next chapter of this


	4. Home Safe and Sound For You

Only an hour passes before Villanelle is going from happy and thrilled to angry and confused.

"Anna committed suicide earlier this week," Konstantin informs Villanelle, tapping against the steering wheel of his black Audi.

Villanelle's finger stops fiddling with the window control, turning her head to look over at him.

"What?"

"Wednesday morning. It's in all of the local papers from there. Ex-Teacher commits suicide years after being caught touching a female pupil." Konstantin stops at a stoplight.

"I don't check their papers anymore."

"None of them mention you which…"

Konstantin's voice fades into the background as Villanelle becomes wrapped up in the way her breathing is quickening like she's been sprinting a marathon. Large rain drops plop onto the windshield, echoing throughout the black interior. Her throat dried up as her heart skipped beats in it. The car jerks forward but to Villanelle it seems as if instead of just moving forward the entire car was shrinking. The numbness that her mind usually carried drifted to her body, her hands, her arms. 

"Villanelle?"

Konstantin invades the area Villanelle is becoming trapped in. She looks at him and tries to focus on what he says, but it's all just a little too much.

"Yes?" Her voice echoes in her own ears.

"We're here."

She looks away from him and up at the building that suddenly feels a little too tall. A little too much of that nagging thought.

"Oh, thank you," she says before stepping out of his car and onto the curb.

Konstantin rolls down the window. "Hey, don't do anything naughty."

Villanelle tries to smile and turns to face her uncle. "I have never done anything naughty."

"Villanelle, I mean it. I can only cover up so many messes," Konstantin warns.

She rolls her eyes. "Do you want to interview the persons I fuck too? Ask them if I'm  _ naughty _ ?"

He shakes his head and rolls the window up before driving off.

Villanelle swallows deeply and takes a stuttering breath. Or tries to. But air gets caught in her throat and will not reach her lungs.

Anna is dead. Gone. Villanelle would never run into her when Konstantin and her went back to Russia once a year. Anna would never look at Villanelle with disgust or anger, and Villanelle would never get to tell her how beautiful she looked again.

No jokes about the greys in her hair.

Or how her hands got old.

Villanelle wouldn't leave Moscow, thinking how she didn't "run" into Anna this year, which happened 4 out of the last ten years.

Which happened the four out of the last five years.

Until last year when Villanelle had just shown up at Anna's apartment.

The words Anna said were cruel, and punishing. She blamed Villanelle for ruining her life, blamed her for everything, said Villanelle was obsessed with her and a psychopath.

Villanelle steps on to the elevator and leans forward against the gold bar, facing the glass back wall and watching London become smaller.

The entire idea of death confused Villanelle. The way people cried and grieved, she never got that feeling. When babushka passed away, Villanelle didn't understand the grieving or crying of her family. She simply wouldn't be able to escape her home to see her anymore. She knew she was gone, and that was the range of Villanelle's emotions.

By the time her parents died, Villanelle knew what grieving was supposed to look like. She perfected the role, crying at the funeral and pretending to grieve. But there wasn't any actual feeling besides relief. She felt more emotion when her parents died than her grandmother because instead of the empty pit, there was happiness and internal celebration that she never vocalized with anyone.

Anna came during the "grief". Shipped off to boarding school by Konstantin, Villanelle kept up the grief act by blaming any insubordinate action on grief. The school and the media fell for it. 

Anna fell for it. 

Wanting to give Villanelle help, she would invite her to her apartment for cake and long conversations. Originally, it was extra lessons, but that lasted all of two days before they were talking about life, and things they loved. Anna loved the idea of luxury fashion and jewelry, and Villanelle didn't have access to her inheritance yet so Villanelle would steal pieces for Anna. It frustrated Villanelle that Anna would refuse to wear them then. 

If she liked expensive clothing and gold, why not wear what Villanelle was giving her?

The elevator dings, and Villanelle goes straight to her walk-in closet.

Anna also refused to call Villanelle by her new name. She kept calling her Oksana. She told Villanelle it was a beautiful name like that was the reason Villanelle didn't like it, and not because of the images that appeared in Villanelle's mind when she heard the name.

Villanelle finally kissed Anna one night in Anna's living room when Anna's husband Maxi was making dinner for the three of them. It unsettled Anna, and the dinner had been mostly silent before Anna told  _ Villanelle _ , not Oksana, that it was time to go home for the night.

That unsettledness didn't last long, because the next day after French class, Villanelle had snuck her hand up Anna's hideous dress and Anna's hands were crumpling Villanelle's uniform as she cried out,  _ Oksana _ .

Villanelle stares at her empty, emotionless eyes while tying the black tie around her neck.

They were described as a killer's eyes by one of her very first therapists in London.

Truthfully, Villanelle wouldn't say that was far from the truth but she never ended up being a killer because a few days before she planned on castrating Maxi, the dean walked in on Anna and Villanelle. A week later, Villanelle was in a London boarding school and Anna was known as the ex-teacher who fucked pupils. 

Anna never got charged with anything because Villanelle was 16 and technically legal in Russia, and they kept Villanelle's name out of the papers.

Villanelle slides the black belt through the loops of her black trousers, leaving her hand on the belt and studying herself. She hated her eyes because she could never control them. Her tears never carried to the look in her eyes. Her smile never carried to her eyes. Her eyes just always looked lifeless and inhuman.

They hold that emptiness that also settled in her chest when Konstantin said Anna killed herself.

The mirror shatters into dozens of shards on the ground, and Villanelle's knuckles bead with blood. She stares at the blood for a moment, moving her hand so it runs down towards her wrist before grabbing a random shirt and wrapping it. Then, like nothing happened, Villanelle walks to the kitchen and pulls out her phone to send an email to her therapist.

_ villastankova@gmail.com  _

_ Monday's Session  _

_ Dear Eve, _

_ Can I come in an hour early on Monday and still go to our scheduled ending time? I am willing to pay double for the extra hour. It is completely fine if you aren't able to.  _

_ Warmest regards, _

_ Villanelle O. V. Astankova _

Then she exits her email, and opens a new window, searching for tickets to Moscow and hotel rooms in the Mitino District.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn't be me if we didn't have a little angst right? Also idk if anyone noticed but chapter titles are always a line from the next chapter so it's like a little teaser


	5. Nothing? Nothing.

Niko and Eve went on dinner Friday night because Saturday morning he left for a school trip with his students. They had date nights twice a week and tried to have sex at least once a week. She kissed him goodbye this morning and had shepherd’s pie for the entire weekend even if she didn’t actually like shepherd’s pie. Before he left, he said I love you and Eve just said yeah.

Having the weekend to herself gave Eve the chance to catch up on her notes and other clients. Right now, she had twenty other clients besides Villanelle and out of work, she was spending more time thinking about Villanelle than all of her other clients combined.

Her biggest priority right now is not thinking of Villanelle. One statement that Villanelle made in particular.

Eve lifts up her wine and takes a gulp before standing from her desk and walking down stairs. She plucks a picture off the fridge of her and Niko.

Last year, they spent a week in Italy. They had fun, it was enjoyable. But it didn't wow Eve the way Italy should wow someone. The water was just blue. The buildings were just neat. Everything was just...

She sighs and throws it away.

For a few months, Eve's been throwing a picture away here and there to see if Niko noticed. If he had, he hadn't said anything. Her own therapist said it was probably time to think about a divorce, but divorces are messy and exhausting, and this marriage has already made Eve exhausted.

She doesn't know if she could be more exhausted.

Eve felt like trying in this marriage was throwing gasoline on a fire that's already burnout. There was nothing that could be done anymore to add to the flame and passion between Niko and Eve when the ground is already cold it's been so long.

A bit of red wine splashes out of the glass, as she refills it for the second time today. It's only three o'clock.

They didn't fight too much, which Eve is grateful for. Only here and there when Eve's stressed about a client or Niko's stressed about a student. They always work through it. Niko cooks for her, and compliments her. It's so obvious they care about each other. But it was also obvious they weren't in love with each other anymore. Eve trims Niko's hair and he always takes care of her car. Niko does the laundry and irons their clothes, and Eve makes sures to mix his coffee with the perfect amount of sugar and cashew milk because he's lactose intolerant even if he doesn't want to admit it.

The point is… they work. They didn't need to be having passionate sex, or giving each other butterflies, because they offered each other comfort. When Niko walks in a room, Eve doesn't need to hurry over to him and spend every minute possible with him because she'll go home with him at the end of the night.

She doesn't miss him when she doesn't see him for a few days because she knows that she gets to see as much as she wants any other time.

Her therapist brought up Sternburg's triangular theory of love. Where true love needs passion, intimacy, and commitment. She described Eve's marriage as companionate love, because Eve and Niko had loss passion and now only had a commitment and the intimacy of 16 years to each other.

Eve sits down at the kitchen table.

She hasn't felt excited in a few years. Hasn't felt passion or vibrance in her life. Except last night.

When she was caught off guard by Villanelle in the bathroom, Eve felt those butterflies in her stomach. Her life was a little more colorful for a few moments. The feathery black dress Villanelle had on seemed more colorful than her honeymoon in Fiji. Eve felt like she belonged in that expensive restaurant and that she wasn't 44 years old and just gliding through life.

Eve wanted to live again.

Enjoy life as vividly as Villanelle did.

"God dammit," Eve sighs when she realizes she was thinking about Villanelle again. 

Eve slides out of her chair and makes a trip upstairs to grab her laptop. 

She loves Niko, Eve tells herself like she has everyday for the last 16 years, she truly does and she always will. Although, was the even the truth?

The night they got engaged, Eve was thinking about how she didn’t love Niko and was planning to break up with him. Then he proposed in the middle of an expensive restaurant in front of guests, and her parents, and… 

Eve had to say yes.

She told herself she would learn to love him as much as he loved her. More and more, it seemed like that never happened and rather she learned to live with him.

Eve sits back down at the kitchen table and opens her laptop. 

Eve had millions saved up from working for celebrities, and the rich. Clients willing to pay around a thousand pounds just to talk about how they sometimes want to kill someone, and trusted Eve to always keep that confidentially.

Yeah… Eve had some money saved up.

Since Niko is a teacher and felt bad at how little he made compared to Eve, they lived within his means. An affordable home that Niko even took a loan out for even if they didn't need it, mid-range clothes, never anything luxury. Eve's money was going to be for their kids they never got around to having.

Eve decides she'll give Niko this house. She'll give him her trusty SUV and she'll even give him a few million if he wants it.

When the browser opens on her laptop, Eve types in the search bar,  _ Houses and flats available in St. James, London under £5,000,000 _

And when she arranges a viewing for a mews house for 1 pm on Monday, Eve doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty. Not even when she knows she'll be buying this house by Monday afternoon without taking a loan or breaking a sweat.

Eve closes her laptop and she feels lighter. She thinks Niko will agree to the easy way out. Two years of separation and then they can get divorced. Then Eve pauses.

Slowly, she opens her laptop back up and opens a fresh browser. Her finger hovers over the  _ V _ on her keyboard, but ultimately she goes to her email, scolding herself for considering to search Villanelle.

One email catches Eve by surprise.

_ villastankova@gmail.com  _

_ Monday's Session  _

It was from late last night, a few hours after she ran into her at the restaurant, and Eve instantly opened it and read over it.

_ Dear Eve, _

_ Can I come in an hour early on Monday and still go to our scheduled ending time? I am willing to pay double for the extra hour. It is completely fine if you aren't able to.  _

_ Warmest regards, _

_ Villanelle O. V. Astankova _

Eve stares at it with worry. Villanelle has never asked to change an appointment or come in early or for extra appointments. She hurriedly types a response.

_ Dear Villanelle, _

_ Yes, that is perfectly fine, you don't need to pay double. Are you okay? If it can't wait until Monday, I can come in tomorrow for an extra session. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Eve Polastri _

Eve waits. She figures Villanelle is probably off doing something else by-

Another email comes in.

_ I'm afraid I am in Russia now and can't come in tomorrow, otherwise I would. I will come in early Monday. Thanks. _

Even through email, Eve can feel the lack of Villanelle's energy. She also didn't answer if she was okay. But she did admit she would come in tomorrow if she wasn't out of the country.

_ Villanelle, I am here for you, you know that. Here is my phone number if you need to talk now. _

Eve's never handed her phone number out to a client. Typically, she told them to reach her through email and that was enough. 

Her phone vibrates next to the laptop with an unsaved number and Eve is launching to answer it.

"Villanelle?"

There's a stuttering breath for a second and then silence.

"Villanelle, are you okay?" Eve asks.

"Anna killed herself on Wednesday. Her funeral is tomorrow morning."

"Vill-"

"I found out Friday night after Konstantin's birthday dinner. He waited until after the dinner to tell me because he didn't want me making a scene in front of his business partners."

"It isn't your-"

"It is. I caused her husband to leave her, I made her think she liked me, she lost her teaching job, all the local articles were about Anna Leonova coercing a female student to have a sexual relationship with her and then I fucked off to London while she had nothing. I can't even go to her funeral tomorrow because I don't want the media connecting the dots between me and the articles about her. I never wanted anyone to know about Anna because I didn't want this to happen!" Villanelle finishes in a yell.

"Villanelle, can you take a deep breath?" Eve asks, mentally noting the amount of times Villanelle uses the word I when someone else killed herself.

Villanelle doesn't answer so Eve assumes she's taking a breath.

"Come back to London," Eve speaks again.

"Why?" Villanelle's voice is small and frail.

There's a million good reasons Eve could give. The one she does give, isn't the best. 

"For me."

"For you?" Villanelle repeats.  _ Villanelle breathes _ .

"Yes. Please, come back to London for me." Eve stands from her table and starts pacing around her kitchen.

"Okay," Villanelle simply answers and hangs up.

Eve doesn't know if that means Villanelle is coming back to London, or if she crossed a line. She doesn't even know why she said that. Villanelle is an adult. But she could have hurt herself,  _ more likely _ , hurt someone else. 

_ For me _ .

Why did Eve go straight to that, though? It was a manipulative statement to make, knowing Villanelle liked praise and pleasing Eve.

Eve groans and just prays that when she sees Villanelle on Monday isn't also the last time Villanelle comes in her office.

So much for not thinking about Villanelle today.

* * *

It's around 11 pm and Eve's just got off the phone with Niko and slipped under the blankets when her phone vibrates against the nightstand. Whoever it was could wait til the morning as Eve-

_ Bzzz _ .

"I swear to fucking god," Eve mutters and rolls over, slamming her hand down on her phone. The brightness blinds her for a moment.

Two messages from an unknown number.

Eve hurriedly unlocks her phone and opens her messages.

The first message is a picture of Villanelle's reflection, undone black tie around the collar of an untucked black Oxford, in a window showing the skyline of London. The top few buttons of the oxford is done. One of her hands is slid in her pocket.

Under it reads,

_ home safe and sound for you _

Eve smiles to herself then types a response, not bothering to think about how she shouldn't be texting her client.

_ Good, so I will see you Monday at seven? _

Three little dots appear and disappear a few times before another message pops up.

_ of course i wouldn't miss our 6th month anniversary for anything  _

It is also the first progress report Eve would have to do on Villanelle. It was something Eve did with all of her clients because she didn't want them to waste their money if they aren't making progress, so every six months she would finish the appointment with talking with them about their progress.

Villanelle is different though. Legally, she had to be in therapy so it didn't matter if she is making progress or not. And she really wasn't, because as far as Eve could tell, there was nothing for Villanelle to progress as far as having no addictions to get over, and no violent tendencies. She was becoming more open though, so that's progress in a way.

Eve types a short response and shuts her phone off for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have almost 20 different bruises on my body and I am not happy about it.


	6. Most people

_ I'm proud of you. _

Villanelle has read that message a little over a hundred times when she slides her phone in her pocket Monday morning and finishes packing her Burberry duffle with Eve's flowers and chocolates.

She likes that she made Eve proud. It fills the shallow, empty hole from Anna with warmth. Even if she didn't really do anything except waste money on a flight to Moscow. But all that matters is Eve is proud of her.

She may have even had that message open while her back arched and she chanted-

Her front door swings open, Konstantin marching towards her.

"You went to Russia?" He asks, wrapping his hand around her neck and slamming her against the wall behind her. "I told you to never go there again."

Villanelle's hands dig into his hand. "I came back right away," she manages to get out before he tightens his hand.

"Not soon enough, there are pictures of you dressed in all black in a Moscow airport."

She can’t get a response out from how tightly his hand is wrapped around her throat.

Redness fills her face and Konstantin is going to have purple fingernail shaped cuts in the bottom of his hands and wrists.

The two stare at each other, and Villanelle begins to wonder how far this will go because they both know he can't leave bruises on her  _ precious _ camera ready neck.

He lets her go and turns away from her, rubbing his hands. "Why can't you do what I ask?"

Her hands fall to her knees, taking in ragged breaths. "Konstantin, I didn't-" Villanelle rasps.

"Why do you just have to constantly have to disappoint me, Villanelle? I have very high hopes for you, but maybe I am wrong."

She rubs her neck and stands up. "I would like you to leave."

"You would like me to leave?" Konstantin laughs. "Do you forget who saved you from becoming some Russian tragedy? I'm sorry for making sure you aren't the orphan that got touched by her teacher."

Villanelle stares at him. Her head tilts the slightest while raising her eyebrow to say  _ so? _

"Do you forget that not going to Russia without me is a part of your contract?"

"Are you going to have the board fire me?"

"No, I covered your ass this time and had the few pictures taken down because I knew you would be naughty."

"Then why did you even tell me?" Villanelle asks and walks over to her couch where the duffel is resting. 

"So that I had time to prepare, instead of you finding it out randomly."

"Or because you were trying to get me to have a meltdown," Villanelle mumbles, using the zipper on her bag to cover her sass.

"If you break another part of your contract, I will not cover for you again," Konstantin continues.

Villanelle rolls her eyes and lifts the bag up. She's heard that threat a dozen times now. As much as Konstantin wants to let the board fire her, he won’t because the stock of their company has more than tripled since she opened  _ Villanelle _ . Her trainers squeak against the floor as she turns on her heel. "Now, I would like you to leave because I'm on my way to therapy."

"What's the bag for?"

"Jiu-jitsu practice and then I meet with my trainer." It wasn't a complete lie, she had jiu-jitsu after therapy but she didn't need such a large bag just for her gi and work-out equipment.

"When did you start that?" He asks, following her out like he didn't just strangle her.

Sometimes that psychopathy Villanelle has been told she has shows in her uncle too. Most people would be so upset and crying if their uncle strangled them, maybe press charges. The person who did the choking would still be angry and aggressive. To Konstantin and Villanelle it wasn't much different than seeing a passing beetle and yelling ' _ Punch bug! _ '

"A few months ago, my therapist recommended it."

"You're taking this serious this time," he comments as they both step on the elevator. "Is it still that Evelyn woman?"

" _ Eve _ . The one that works for your friend."

"Carolyn said she would be their best match for you out of their counselors."

"She does very good. She is very patient with me."

"Don't."

"What?" Villanelle feigns innocence.

"Do not sleep with your therapist."

"I would never. She has a husband anyways." Villanelle shrugs.

Konstantin looks over at her, scoffing. "That hasn't stopped you before."

"Konstantin, I am taking my therapy serious now. I'm not going to sleep with her. I don't want to sleep with her. It's just nice to have someone to talk to,” Villanelle lies.

She imagines fucking Eve a lot. Being fucked by Eve even more, which was new. Villanelle didn’t really ever let anyone else have control, but she imagines Eve would be very careful with Villanelle offering her control. Eve would understand how hard it was for Villanelle.

"It should be since you're paying her a thousand pounds an hour," Konstantin finishes as the elevator dings. "No more Russia?"

"No more Russia," Villanelle agrees.

They walk out of the elevator, where Villanelle leads Konstantin to the coffee place. Nadia is waiting with an iced black coffee.

“Good morning, Villanelle, um, Mr. Vasieliv,” Nadia says, walking up to the register.

Villanelle stares at the coffee. 

Nadia has remember what Villanelle orders. 

She prepared it for her.

She was happy to see Villanelle.

_ Fuck _ , Villanelle thinks. “Good morning, Nadia.”

“I got your regular ready-”

“I want a hot coffee. With sugar. Like  _ a lot _ ,” Villanelle interrupts. 

“Oh, okay. Can I get you anything?” Nadia turns to Konstantin and asks.

“No thanks. I already had one before coming here.”

“Well, one more never hurts,” Nadia teases before turning and throwing the iced coffee away to make a new one.

Konstantin stares at Villanelle, raising a fluffy eyebrow.  _ I thought you weren’t being naughty _ . 

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. 

Nadia is just a barista and a simple fling. It’s not Villanelle’s fault if Nadia fell in love with her. Villanelle is very lovable. She’s funny, charming, beautiful, and intelligent.

Nadia turns around with Villanelle’s coffee. “Are you busy tonight?”

Villanelle takes her coffee and sits it down on the counter, before pulling out her wallet. “Unfortunately, Konstantin and I have plans.”

“Oh, what are you guys doing?” Nadia takes Villanelle’s money, surprised because Villanelle never paid for any of her drinks.

Villanelle turns and stares at Konstantin. “What are we doing, Konstantin?”

Anger shadows his face for a flash then he smiles. “It’s a surprise.”

“How about this weekend, Nadia?” Villanelle asks while picking her coffee up. "I'll come see you tomorrow morning and we can discuss it?"

Nadia nods and waves goodbye as Konstantin and Villanelle exit the building. Villanelle takes a drink and spits the coffee on the ground, nearly getting it on the flared bottoms of her white pants.

“You are a trouble-maker,” Konstantin scolds before walking in the opposite direction of Villanelle.

* * *

After checking in and throwing her undrank coffee away, Villanelle goes straight to Eve's office instead of waiting for her to buzz the secretary.

Using her hip, Villanelle pushes open the door. "Good morning, Eve," Villanelle chirps while carrying the bag over.

Eve jumps. "Good morning… you seem… happy "

"I am! Thank you for noticing, it's almost as if that's your job." Villanelle places the bag on top of Eve's desk.

“What’s in-”

“Shush,” Villanelle scholds and unzips the bag. She lifts the chocolates out first and places them right in front of Eve. “Try one.”

Eve lifts open the Islay Whiskey Cask one on top and studies the white and metallic silver box.

“It’s chocolate.”

“Villanelle…”

“Do not yell at me until after you have tried it.” Villanelle puts both her hands on the edge of Eve’s desk and leans forward like a child watching their parent try something they cooked, except this would be delicious. Eve opens the outside box, and lifts the inside wooden box from the green interior with a little confusion written on her face, answering Villanelle’s own question about whether Eve treated herself to luxury. Eve opens the next box, revealing the wrapped chocolate bar and gold tweezers under it.

“You use the tweezers to pick up the chocolate because we never know where our fingers have been,” Villanelle elaborates, wiggling her eyebrows. She leans a bit more forward so the gold chain around her neck swings.

“Is this what being rich is like?” Eve asks and looks up.

Villanelle keeps her smile contained when she notices Eve’s eyes widen just the slightest bit before completely traveling to her face. She may have put on a more revealing orange blouse today and been leaning over Eve’s desk with a purpose.

“Eve,” Villanelle clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “I know for a fact that I alone pay you enough to enjoy things like this.”

“I have bills, and-”

“Try the chocolate and then talk to me about bills,” Villanelle interrupts and pushes off the desk to stand up, sliding her hands into her white pants. She watches carefully as Eve breaks off a piece and places it in her mouth.

Eve moans, a glorious noise that Villanelle wants to hear over and over again, and covers her mouth. “Jesus Christ, Villanelle.”

Villanelle grins. “You like it?”

“Like it? I feel like I just took drugs from a client, this is so good,” Eve jokes. She breaks over another piece and holds it pinched in the tweezers for Villanelle.

She probably held it out for Villanelle to take the tweezers.

But when did Villanelle do what she was supposed to? 

She's  _ always _ naughty.

So, holding eye contact with Eve, Villanelle leans down and bites the chocolate between her teeth and then gently pulls it into her mouth, smiling as it melts on her tongue. It gets the exact reaction she wants out of Eve who doesn't move and just stares, holding up the empty tweezers. 

It wasn't quite flirting, it could be scratched off as Villanelle just missing social cues again. But, if Eve did think of it flirting then deep down that means Eve wants it to be flirting.

"I am glad you like it. But that is not all," Villanelle, says after finishing her piece of chocolate, pulling the clear acrylique square out then moving her bag. She places it on Eve's desk. "Ta da."

"Are these-"

"Premium, long-lasting roses? That they are, Eve," Villanelle has to control herself to not puff out her chest in pride.

"They're beautiful, but Villanelle, I was joking about chocolates and flowers." Eve picks up her notepad and stands up. She follows Villanelle over to the furniture in the middle of the room and they take their seats.

"I had some extra money," Villanelle shrugs and crosses her legs.

"You always have extra money." Eve mirrors Villanelle with crossing her legs. She adjusts her glasses, a black square frame that are adorable. "But… thank you, everything is wonderful."

"You're welcome. I like your glasses."

Eve ignores the compliment as she does with any compliment. "How are you doing?"

Villanelle's smile falters but she manages to keep it up. "Like you said, I am happy."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason to be happy? Maybe I am happy because I enjoy your company."

Eve huffs, and shakes her head, not able to hide the small smile. "There's a lot more interesting things you could be doing. Plus you are the one that wanted to come in early."

"I find my time is only interesting when I'm with you," Villanelle admits. "I'm usually so bored all the time."

Eve frowns, glancing at her notes and writing for a second. She doesn't look up when she speaks.

"How are you dealing with Anna's sudden death?"

"You can call it a suicide, Eve. I'm dealing with it fine. Coming back to London was good for me. Besides it wasn't like I was able to go to the funeral or anything," Villanelle says nonchalant.

"If you knew you couldn't go to the funeral, why did you go to Russia?" Eve asks. "You seemed dressed for a funeral."

"I-" Villanelle does falter this time. She pauses and brings her hand up to the chain around her neck. "I didn't know what to do. So I did the first thing I thought of."

"It's not a bad thing that that was your first reaction. It's better than wanting to drink, hurt yourself or someone else."

Villanelle chuckles. "Oh, that thought was definitely there."

"Which thought?" Eve presses.

"What did you mean when you said you were proud of me?" Villanelle tries to turn the conversation around.

"Villanelle, did you think of hurting yourself?"

"No."

"You thought of hurting someone else?"

"Also no."

Eve pushes her glasses up on top of her head. She studies Villanelle for a moment. “Did you do anything else in Russia?”

Villanelle smiles, loving Eve’s ability to read her. Savoring the amount of attention Eve gives her. “Yes.”

“Legal?”

Villanelle shakes her head.

“So you didn’t harm yourself, didn’t harm anyone else, yet committed a crime.” Eve’s head bobs as she tries to think of what Villanelle did.

Villanelle taps her fingers on her knee, waiting for Eve’s guess.

“You broke into where Anna was living,” Eve states, without a single piece of unconfidence.

Villanelle laughs and grins, teeth shining. “How do you do that?”

“It’s a secret,” Eve humors.

“I think you have a lot of secrets, Eve Polastri.”

“Is that so?”

Villanelle nods, peering into Eve’s eyes. “I think about them a lot. I want to know them, and when you tell me them, I think I will be the first person you tell them too.”

“Except, I won’t tell you my secrets because I’m  _ your _ therapist. Not the other way around.” Before Villanelle can get around to responding, Eve slides in a question. “Why did you break into Anna’s home?”

“There were pictures of Anna and me together that I wanted to make sure to get out before someone collected her sh-stuff.” Villanelle explains, looking away from Eve.

“That’s not all though. Why else did you go?”

Still not looking at Eve, Villanelle speaks, “I wanted to see how she did it.” She looks back. “She shot herself. Probably with a pistol to her chin. The blood was splattered on the ceiling, but it wasn’t as messy as when Mother shot herself with the shotgun. There was a dried pool...half on-half off the carpet in the living room. Across from it is where her couch was. The same one from ten years ago.  _ Everything _ was the same. I sat down on Maxi’s-her ex-husband’s chair- and I just stared at the room. I used to fuck her on that chair on particular.” Villanelle explains it all without a drop emotion, like an officer or detective describing a crime scene.

“How long did you stay in her apartment?” Eve asks, writing on her notepad.

“Ten hours? Twelve? Until you emailed me back.”

“You just sat in that chair and stared at the bloody scene for twelve hours? How did you feel?” Eve asks in disbelief. Villanelle figured Eve had psychopath written all over that notepad, so she didn't know why she was surprised.

“I didn’t feel anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It wasn’t any different than sitting in a chair in a dentist office or in my own flat.”

“Or across from me now?” Eve questions.

Her hand tightens and her arms readjust uncomfortably. Villanelle didn't like the idea of Eve thinking she didn't care about her. 

"I didn't say that," she tries to defend herself.

"No, but you've repeatedly started to therapists that," Eve flips through her notes pad and stops on a page. "' _ Life is just boring,' 'I do not get why people get excited or upset about things happening because they will just get used to it,' 'People are like chess pieces because they all have a purpose to help me win as long as I know how to play them.' _ "

Villanelle presses back into the sofa, seeing Eve be disappointed with every statement. 

"You're just using me so you can keep ownership of your company with your uncle, correct?"

_ Why is she being like this? _

"No, Eve. Otherwise I would have gotten a new therapist by now. I enjoy seeing you."

"Why should I believe you?"

“Because I feel things when I’m with you.”

Eve’s jaw drops the slightest bit and her eyebrows draw in. It’s all so subtle that if Villanelle didn’t make a habit of studying people, she wouldn’t have even noticed. But she did, and she knows it affected Eve. It takes Eve a few moments to recover so Villanelle continues.

"I do not like when you are disappointed with me. It makes me feel edgy and weird. I really like when I know I'm doing something that makes you proud. I feel accomplished, more so than what all the tabloids like to say I am."

Once again, Eve has this look of surprise that could be described as a mixture of confusion, and on the edge of a breakthrough. She leans back, laying the notepad on her lap, and uses both hands to rub the sides of her neck, all while staring at Villanelle. Her hands fold together and she rests her elbows on the notepad, and her chin on her intertwined knuckles.

“Tell me about your uncle.”

"What?" Now it’s Villanelle’s turn to be surprised.

"He's your father's brother correct?"

"Yes."

"Is he your only family?"

"No, he has a daughter. My cousin Irina. She is very annoying," Villanelle says and stands to grab herself a water from the mini-fridge. "Do you want one?"

"Yes, please," Eve replies. She takes the bottle of water from Villanelle, thanking her, and waits for her to sit down. "So it is just you, Konstantin, and Irina."

"He's married and she's kinda hard to miss," Villanelle blows out her cheeks and gestures her arms out. 

Eve laughs. As much as Villanelle loved the sound of Eve moaning earlier, innocently enough, Eve laughing is even better. "Do you spend a lot of time with Irina?"

"Since I'm twenty six and she is only twelve, not too much. Different hobbies," Villanelle explains.

"No, your hobbies probably aren't the most child appropriate."

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about my hobbies, Eve?" Villanelle absolutely  _ loves _ any chance she has to find out more of what Eve thinks of her. 

"You've personally told me some of your hobbies."

"Sex is not a hobby. What I make women feel is an entire experience," Villanelle watches as Eve takes a deep breath in. Something had changed. Eve is allowing herself to react to Villanelle. "I am still attending jiu-jitsu, by the way."

"Is that so?" Eve asks.

Villanelle nods. "My instructor thinks I am doing very good for only four months of training."

Eve flips through her notes.

Villanelle adjusts in her seat a few times. Then she plays with her nails. Maybe she should get a manicure, they were splitting-

"Has your uncle ever hurt you?" 

Villanelle's hand instinctively goes to her neck and she scratches at it, trying to play the motion off. Konstantin wouldn't leave a bruise. He is smarter than that. "Excuse me?"

"Has Konstantin ever inflicted violence on you? Or even threatened you?"

"Konstantin is a businessman man, he always behaves professionally." Villanelle says slowly as her phone begins vibrating in her pocket. She stands and slides it out, confused about who would be calling her phone and not her assistant. "I'm sorry, I need to take this."

"Go ahead," Eve says. 

Villanelle walks over to the window as she slides on her phone screen to answer. "Hello?"

"I am in your office, where are you?" It's Hugo.

Villanelle looks up at her office and she can see the bastard in her window. "Who the hell let you in my office?"

"The very lovely assistant that didn't seem to realize you aren't here."

That's it. Villanelle is going to fire her assistant.

"Hugo, get the fuck out of my office." Villanelle slides her spare hand in her pocket and taps her foot.

"But I have a contract here for you to sign," Hugo responds and she can hear the smirk on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"I got a grant for our movie. You just need to agree to do it before I get their money."

"You got someone to give you money?" Villanelle turns and looks at the back of Eve's head. A movie based on her life would change a lot of people's perspective on her.

"They thought it was a fantastic idea and are very hopeful for it."

"Listen, I'm in the middle of something right now and won't be back in my office until 2 pm. Can you leave the contract with my  _ very lovely _ assistant and tell her to fax it to my lawyer?"

"You don't trust me?"

"If you're making a movie about my life I want to know what is going into that."

"Mostly stuff about your childhood and then what happened between the time you came to London and after your parents died. Maybe some stuff about uni and towards the end have you opening Villanelle magazine," Hugo elaborates. "Can we meet tomorrow?"

"Yes. Come into my office at 9 am." Villanelle hangs up and walks back over to pick her bag up Eve's desk. "I need to leave."

"Villanelle-" Eve stands up 

"I know I asked you to come in early and get up early and I'll still pay you for both hours, but I need to take care of things." Villanelle grabs her water bottle of Eve's coffee table.

Eve sits her hand on top of Villanelle's. "Please stay."

_ For me. _

Villanelle looks up at Eve, the erratic tension in her brain melting away. Maybe this was a little unethical, but she really just wanted to get out of this office. "Do you want to come with me?"

Eve doesn't respond right away. Then she sits down and gestures to the seat across from her. "I would like to talk to you here. Spend time  _ together _ ."

_ Fuck. _ When Eve puts it like that, Villanelle wants to sit down and just talk away. The couch behind her is comforting. Yet, this room is suffocating her. 

"Villanelle?"

"I can't Eve."

_ I'm proud of you. _

The look in Eve's eyes isn't pride in Villanelle. It's disappointment. It’s always disappointment. Because Villanelle isn’t right in the head, and people that aren’t right in the head always disappoint people. Anyone else, Villanelle wouldn't even care. But Eve is… There's too much control in those eyes and Villanelle needs it back.

"We don't have to talk Villanelle. I would like to just spend time with you. I enjoy your company." Eve gestures to the couch again. "I can put on some music or have someone else go get us coffee?"

"Someone I went to Uni with wants to make a movie based on my life." Villanelle talks fast and doesn't sit down. That's her keeping control. Plastic crinkles in her hands as her grip tightens around the water bottle.

It's the way Eve smiles that makes Villanelle grip loosen. Her eyes change from disappointment.

_ I'm proud of you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if theres typos, I'm tired but wanted to get it up before I went sleep


	7. You Don't Want Anyone Else

Villanelle may not sit down, but Eve managed to get her to stay. She's never seen Villanelle behave in such a manner. This felt very much like being in a cage with a wild animal. The way her mask dropped to reveal someone explosive made Eve understand why Villanelle might have received her psychopathy diagnosis. A 180 from the flirting, seductive woman that barged into Eve's office.

Which… Eve always appreciated women’s bodies. She’s known Villanelle is attractive since the day she met her. But just because someone is attractive doesn’t mean you’re  _ attracted _ to them.

Eve wasn’t attracted to Villanelle. She just appreciated her body. And really appreciated the shirt she was wearing today. There was more to Villanelle than her body, too. Her mind is brilliant and charming. It’s also like a labyrinth that Eve is trapped in trying to get to the end. But Eve didn’t want to get to the end. She wanted to find every hidden crack and crevice and leave her mark.

She just appreciated everything about Villanelle.

When Villanelle took the chocolate away from Eve using her mouth, the feeling she got between her legs was just appreciation.

Eve shakes her head.

She needs to focus on the wild animal in her room, not her own mental panic about her own definition of the word appreciation.

"Most people would be very excited to have a movie based on themselves." Eve picks up her notes and goes to the area where she has narcissistic personality disorder written down. This would be a narcissist's wet dream.

Villanelle gives a snarky laugh. "Most people don't watch their mom blow their father's head off with a 12 gauge. Then see their mom's brain drip off the ceiling." 

A surprisingly violent phrase. Eve tries to contain her reaction, although she probably doesn't do a good job. 

"Or Eve," Villanelle flares her arms, "most people don't fuck their language teacher in secondary school!" Villanelle falls in the chair and steals the notepad from Eve. Not to look at but instead mock Eve. She taps on the notepad and pushes up non-existent glasses. "Would you be okay with someone making a movie about you?" She speaks slow, and lethargically with an American accent that was damn near perfect.

"Villanelle," Eve warns.

"Oh, that's right. No one is making a movie based on your life because it's so fucking boring." Towards the end her accent slips back to Russian. Villanelle stands up. "Your life is so fucking boring that you have to hear the problems of other fucking people! The only thing interesting in your life is me and every spoiled rich kid in this fucking notepad!"

The notepad ricochets off the window. Eve doesn't react to Villanelle's outburst. More surprised that it took six months to get this sort of behavior than anything else.

"You're angry with me because there is a lot going on in your life all at once and you wish you lived a peaceful life," Eve says slowly, maintaining eye-contact with Villanelle. "You envy the type of life you think I live."

Villanelle bares her teeth in something that’s supposed to be a smile. "More like you envy my life. You like the dramatics and the freedom I have."

"So much freedom that you aren't walking out of that door," Eve smirks and points towards the door with one pencil.

Tension slips off of Villanelle's shoulder and she laughs. There's a twinge of hurt in her eyes. "I thought you didn't want me to leave."

"I don't," Eve replies and shrugs. "But since you live for the dramatics and freedom of life, I figure walking out would be right up your alley. Maybe slam the door, too. Since you have so much control over yourself." Some patients required heavy amounts of empathy and compassion. Others needed someone willing to bite back.

Villanelle glances at the door. 

"You're welcome to leave. If you want you can leave today and come back for our next session. But no matter what we'll talk about why you want to leave either today, or why you left at our next session." Eve stands and walks over to pick up her notepad.

When she stands back up and turns, Villanelle is seated on the couch. There’s a combination of amusement and a scowl on her face.

“Are you ready to talk without being a dick?”

Villanelle smiles. “Who? Me?”

Eve rolls her eyes, taking her seat. “It’s always you.”

* * *

Overall, it ends up being a very good session. Villanelle was willing to work with Eve and be cooperative. But something Villanelle said got under her skin. Very rarely does a patient get under Eve's skin.

The comment about being bored did.

Nagging, pricking, and pulling at the back of Eve's mind as the real estate agent walked her through the four-bedroom mews house. From Eve's ill-fitted clothes and lack of luxury in her demeanor, she could tell he looked down on her. 

It's on the roof terrace that he vocalizes it.

"So are you pre-approved for a loan?" He asks and rests his clipboard against his hip. His free hand flattens his white balding hair.

Eve walks over to the railing. "No, I haven't even thought about getting one."

"Well, I'm sorry ma'am but the owners only want offers from people that will be able to afford their home," he says.

Eve turns and laughs. "If someone has to borrow money to afford a home can they really afford it?"

"Most people take out a loan." The agent is getting visibly annoyed with Eve.

" _ Most people _ ," Eve can't even contain herself at that phrase. She opens her purse and pulls out her checkbook. "Do most people offer to write a check for a house on the spot?"

"No, ma'am."

Eve nods. "Okay, well Mr. Vasiliev, why don't you call the homeowners and let them know I'm ready to buy this house for another 25 thousand more than they're asking if they are willing to meet right now and draw up a purchasing agreement."

"Okay, just give me a moment.” The real estate agent walks away while pulling out his cell. 

Eve turns back towards the railing and leans on it. 

The sky is trying to spit rain out and Eve’s parka has a tear in the left arm. Water is slipping in and soaking her. There’s not anything she could do about it. Even if she tried to cover the hole, water would still trickle in.

In a couple of hours, she’ll go home to her husband. A perfectly good husband and a perfectly good life. They could still adopt a child and give the kid a pretty damn good life. Eve is living a dream life. Never having to worry about debt, and never having to worry if her husband loves or not. 

And that bored Eve.

Three more clients came in after Villanelle and Eve couldn’t help but think about how she would be grateful to have the problems they did. All three of them had a problem and they worked with Eve to figure out how to solve the problem. Maybe if Eve had problems in her life to figure out she wouldn’t be so bored.

Villanelle is different than her other clients, however. It wasn’t like they sat down and were trying to figure out her problems so she could stop coming to therapy. They were just trying to figure out Villanelle’s brain worked. Eve wondered for a moment if her own therapist thought the same thing about Eve, or if Eve bored her therapist because her life was so fucking bland. From the house she lived in, to the man she married, to her hobbies, and even her clothes. 

If Villanelle is extravagance then Eve is monotony.

“If you would follow me to my office Mrs. Polastri, the homeowners said they’ll meet us there.”

In a couple of hours, Eve will ask her husband for a divorce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had this house saved for so long so now I can finally close this tab, so here's Eve's new house https://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-88224890.html which I've had this saved so long the house sold so like who ever bought it got a nice ass house lmao


	8. Make Me Better

Konstantin’s office happened to just be a few doors down from the counseling office. His manners had changed considerably once he realized Eve had money. As much as it should have pissed Eve off, she also liked knowing that her life would change if she stopped living in Niko’s means and instead by her means. 

He opens the door for her and then leads into his office in the back, waving politely at his secretary and asking her to bring two coffees.

“They aren’t here yet, but we can talk about what appliances you want to keep in the house and when you would want to close,” Konstantin tells her as he opens the door to his office.

Eve steps in and freezes.

This was  _ that _ Konstantin. Villanelle’s uncle, Konstantin. 

Or she would at least assume that since Villanelle is sitting in his desk chair and has her feet up on his desk. Eve would have assumed they had the same last names, that’s why she never put two and two together.

Villanelle’s eyes light up.

“Hello, Eve,” Villanelle greets. Her hands slide out behind her head to grip the arms of the chair. Her eyes carry absolute delightment. She’s changed to a tight tank top and loose sweatpants, which Eve can’t help but notice that even athleisure looks good on her. 

“Uh, hi,” Eve says and hears Konstantin shuffle in behind her. 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Polastri. This is my niece, Villanelle. I didn’t know she would be here.”

“Eve knows who I am, Konstantin,” Villanelle says while rising from the chair. “This is  _ the _ Eve Polastri. The extraordinary therapist who keeps me from being  _ naughty _ .” She holds her hand out to Konstantin. “I need my spare key for my safety deposit box. The one in South Kensington.”

“Why?” Konstantin asks.

“Because I don’t feel like going home and getting mine,” Villanelle explains.

“You live across the street.”

_ Across the street? _

Villanelle glances at Eve and frowns. “Yes, but I live all the way at the top and that will take forever, and I’ll jump in the shower and change and by the time I’ve done all that, they might be closed.”

“How long have you been waiting in my office?”

Villanelle glances at her smartwatch. “23 minutes. Plus I ate your lunch which was disgusting. Can I just have the key?”

“No.” Konstantin walks over to his desk. “I would like you to leave,” he says with an impolite smile.

Villanelle clenches her jaw before glancing at Eve. Something Eve appreciates is how telling Villanelle’s eyes are. Whatever emotion she tried to constrain, shone through her eyes, albeit behind a thin wall of protection. Then she unclenches her jaw and picks her bag up. “Fine.” She stalks to the door and closes the door forcefully, but doesn’t slam it. 

Eve guesses if she wasn’t here, the interaction between the two would have gone a lot louder.

Maybe even violent.

“I am sorry about that,” Konstantin apologizes while sitting down. “I am impressed you are able to handle her. Most therapists refuse to be her therapist after a couple of sessions.”

“Oh, it’s fine, but I uh-” Eve glances in her bag and sees her phone, keys, and everything she needs in her bag. “I left my phone in my car. I’ll be right back.”

Villanelle is already out of the lobby and Eve jogs outside.

A fist connects with the brick building right beside her head. Villanelle pulls her hand back and goes to punch the wall again when Eve grabs her hand. 

Villanelle jerks her head towards Eve, maybe deciding whether Eve's face should be the next thing she takes aim at. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a real estate office, what-”

“No, Eve. Why did you follow me outside?” Villanelle asks. 

“I... wanted to make sure you were okay? I saw you control yourself in there.”

“Yeah, well, telling my uncle to shove a tiny fucking key up his ass in front of my therapist didn’t seem like a smart idea,” Villanelle scoffs and pulls her hand away from Eve. Her knuckles are a dark shade of red and scuffed up. There are small cuts that look a couple of days old she didn’t notice earlier today.

“You did the right thing because you’re changing. You knew slamming the door or yelling would have been irresponsible.” Eve grabs Villanelle’s hand again and lightly brushes her fingers on her knuckles, running over fine scabs. She hit something else in the last few days, a window, a mirror, something shatterable. “Go home and ice this.”

“You’re a physical therapist too?” Villanelle jokes, but doesn’t pull her hand away this time. 

“If you go around punching brick walls I might have to become one.”

“I could just hire someone else.”

“You don’t want anyone else,” Eve replies, realizing after the fact the double meaning. 

Villanelle doesn’t say anything and Eve looks up to see her staring directly at her. The sun hazily shining through the clouds makes the flecks of gold in her eyes shine brighter. Her hair is just thrown in a ponytail, Eve guesses she had just left the gym before coming to Konstantin’s office. A light flush is still covering her cheeks and neck. It makes her look human, not some random superficial rich person Eve sees every now and then.

It all makes her look beautiful. Warm and close, yet unreachable. Celestial, yet entirely too human.

Someone Eve could love, yet someone Eve could never love because Eve may burn up.

“Excuse me,” a pedestrian apologizes, gently bumping into Eve while passing the women taking up the sidewalk.

Eve realizes she’s still holding her client’s hand and drops it as if it burnt her.

“I-You- Go home and ice that,” Eve recovers less smoothly than she would have hoped for.

“You already said that, Doctor Polastri.”

“Well, go do it then.”

Villanelle smiles. “Okay, Eve.” She starts to walk away and turns around, visibly pleased to see Eve is watching her walk away. “I guess I'll see you when I see you.” She spins back around and has a bounce in her step.

“Yeah. See you when I see you,” Eve repeats. When she looks at her own hand, she half expects to see burns. “She’s just a client,” Eve scolds herself and then walks back into the building.

* * *

Tucked under Niko’s arm, they watch some older movie replaying on the TV. He cooked his typical go to dinner, shepherd’s pie, and Eve pretends like she loves all the bland flavor. Even the food he cooks is boring. Which isn’t a fair thought to Niko because other women would be so happy to have a husband who cooks dinner regularly. Other women would appreciate Niko so much and not feel more excitement when touching a client’s hand than when they are around their husbands. 

“Niko?” Eve asks, not moving from her position under his arm. 

“Hmm?” His eyes don’t leave the television.

“Do you want to get a divorce?” Eve sits up this time and adjusts herself so her legs are tucked under her and her elbow is resting on the back of the couch. Her head sits against her fist.

Niko leans forward and pauses his movie. “A divorce?”

“Yeah. Not a messy one or anything. We can just separate for a couple years and then they’ll let us get divorced.”

His eyes widen. “You’ve been thinking about this?”

“You haven’t?”

Niko doesn’t respond right away. 

“I love you,” Eve says and uses her right arm to reach forward and squeeze his knee. “But I don’t think we’re in love anymore. You deserve someone who is completely in love with you and has a passion for you.”

“You deserve that too, Eve,” Niko says. “We’re just different people now, aren’t we?” His eyes start to shine.

As bad as it is, Eve hopes he doesn’t start crying. “Listen, I’ll give you the money to finish paying the loan off for this house. And you can keep everything in it. And the cars.”

“What about you?” Niko asks.

“I actually bought a house today. I close on it next week because I’m not getting a loan and the homeowners already moved most of their stuff out.”

“You bought a house?” Niko stands up and turns away from Eve. It means he’s started crying. 

Eve follows to wrap her arms around him from behind.

“You should have told me you were feeling this way. I could have changed.”

“Niko, I don’t want you to change.” Eve pulls away and turns him around. “You are an incredible husband. You are so nice, and normal, and kind.” She reaches up and wipes a tear away. 

“It’s your job, isn’t it? It’s made you bored with me?”

“I have twelve million dollars sitting in a bank account for a kid we are never going to adopt because we both know I would be a terrible mother. And that’s not fair to you because you would be a wonderful father. This life fits you, Niko. You enjoy the simplicity of it. But I’m not living  _ my _ life. I want to live.”

"Did you meet someone?" Niko accuses and steps back from Eve.

"What? No, of course not."

"Really? You've changed just in the last few months."

Has she?

"It's like you're never here anymore. You can be right in front of me but your miles away," Niko continues. "Are you fucking one of your clients?"

"Niko!" Eve stands taller and can feel herself get defensive. "I would lose everything if I took advantage of a client like that. The fact that you can even accuse me-"

"I didn't accuse you, I'm just trying to understand, Eve!"

"But you think I'm possible of something so morally wrong?"

"I don't know what you're possible of doing because apparently, you haven't been living." Niko drags his hand down his face. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we-"

"No, Eve! Why are you choosing now to be unhappy! We-"

"I'm not choosing!"

"-are past our prime! We're old! You're five years too late to your mid-life crisis! No one else is going to love you, darling!" Niko waves his hands and makes himself large. Trying to gain control. He stares at her after finishing the statement, waiting for her rebuttal.

She shakes her head and points at herself. "I'm going to love myself."

Niko laughs. Honest to God laughs, buckling over and putting his hands on her thighs. "Do you hear yourself? Ever? Like when you speak do you listen to yourself?"

"Do you?" Eve questions.

"I do, Eve! But you're delusional! I know you go into work and you pretend to care about egotistical assholes and you try to live your life through them, but they aren't real! They're all insane narcissists and psychopaths. They don't fucking love themselves and you can't fucking help them because they don't want to be helped! You're just like them! You can't help yourself because you want your life to fall apart!"

"No, Niko! You are just fucking boring! You're like a fucking background character in your own life and I don't even want to think about what that makes me!"

"Jesus Christ! Aren't you just a walking self-help book? You know, everyone told me not to marry you because they said this would happen."

"I lost all my friends when I married you because they were bored by us!"

"I told everyone they were wrong! That you weren't a selfish cunt!"

"I gave up everything for you, Niko!" 

"Why? I never fucking asked you to!"

"Because I pitied you!" Eve yells.

Niko stands stunned.

So Eve continues, "You were nice and kind and you loved me, so I told myself I could learn to love you. But I never did. I never learned to love you, I learned to live with you." She's an angry crier and wipes away the tears running down her face with the back of her hand. 

Niko walks past her, shoulder brushing against her.

"Niko, I-"

He walks upstairs and she ends up following him to their bedroom. 

Boxes come tumbling down as he takes her suitcase off the top of the wardrobe. A couple tabloid magazine drops off the pile. Niko laughs and picks them up.

“So which one of these are you fucking?” He thrusts the magazines at Eve.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eve swipes them and flips through them. All of them are tabloids about so and so celebrity being spotted going to Martens Counseling. Some of them aren’t even her clients and she didn’t even know they were regularly visiting the office. “Niko, what the fuck?”

“I was curious about your job. I just wanted to understand the types you work with.”

Eve gets to the bottom magazine in the pile. On the cover is Villanelle Astankova, wearing the outfit Eve remembered from her first day. The floral embroidered bomber jacket, the pink shirt, the pink wide-legged pants. “These articles are the reason my clients have problems.”

Niko steals the article Eve froze on. “Of course, the psychopath.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Darling! She’s a diagnosed psychopath that’s well known! And you’re fucking her!”

“I’m not fucking her! I’m not fucking anyone, Niko!”

“Then what, Eve?” Niko yells.”What is it about her?”

“She reminds me of me.”

Niko scoffs. “The psychopath reminds you of yourself?”

Eve rolls her eyes. “No, she’s strong and intelligent. Villanelle is capable of huge things, and she’s  _ free _ . She’s flamboyant and true to herself.”

“You’re in love with her.”

“Niko, I am her therapist. I’m not in love with her.”

Niko shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed. “You don’t even realize it either,” he mumbles.

Eve grabs her suitcase and throws some clothes in it. “You’re wrong. All the accusations. I’m not fucking anyone, or in love with anyone. I’m just unhappy, Niko. I’m going to sleep at the office. I close on the house next week. Do whatever you want with my stuff.” Eve zips up her suitcase and rolls it out of the bedroom, without any guilt in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning but there's gonna be a trigger warning before the next chapter


	9. Wouldn't Be Able

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger Warning for sexual abuse/child abuse*

Villanelle sat on the floor in front of her flat screen with a bag of popcorn and a VHS player beside her. She had to stop at a thrift store to buy it after going to get the old 'home' videos from her safety deposit box.

On-screen, the video is disgusting and perverse. It makes her feel small like the 11-year-old in the video again. Her mother records them. Her father and Oksana 'starred' in them. The day after, Oksana would be locked in her room to tend to herself while her parents' friends came over and watched the movies. They didn't distribute the movies because they knew if what they were doing came out it would ruin them.

Little did they know it ruined them anyways. Oksana's mother got jealous of Oksana because her husband would only play with their child and not take care of  _ her  _ needs. She was jealous of Oksana's pubescent body. At times Villanelle hated Oksana's mother more than Oksana's father. 

There wasn't any reason to keep these videos. She used to tell herself she kept them so no one else could get there hands on them, but if that was the case why didn't she just burn them? One point she tried to get off to them. Oksana's mother said Oksana enjoyed what was happening to her, so Villanelle shoved her hand down her pants and tried so fucking hard to get off to them. 

She went through three therapists that month.

Other times she simply watched them then put them back in the safety deposit box. 

It's been 7 months since she's watched them. There were two standard boxes full of them and Villanelle wouldn't sleep until she's watched all of them. They all had a number between 9 and 15 written on them and then dash another number between 1 and 12.

A decision needed to be made. These tapes were unknown to the public. As far as the information went, Villanelle's mother just went crazy and killed her father and herself.

Even Konstantin thought that because Villanelle told him they were just home videos.

If Hugo was making a coming-of-age movie about her, does this part of her childhood need to be included?

"Стоп! Пожалуйста, ты делаешь мне больно, отец." 

Villanelle reaches in the bag of microwave popcorn as her father reaches around Oksana's neck. The bag is empty so she stands up and pauses the tape before venturing towards the kitchen.

A light outside her window catches her eye.

Eve's office light is on.

Villanelle takes a step back and turns. It's nearly 2 in the morning, what was she doing? 

"Alexa, send a text message to Hot Therapist."

"What's the message for Hot Therapist?"

"Are you in your office right now?" Villanelle says while looking for her phone. 

As the popcorn bag falls in the trash, her phone dings by the microwave. Villanelle goes over and picks it up.

_ Are you stalking me? _

Villanelle smiles and walks back over to her window.

_ look at the top of the building across the street _

Sure enough, Eve appears in her office window looking up at Villanelle's.

_ There is no way you live there. _

Villanelle brings up the camera on her phone, zooms in on Eve and then takes a picture. 

_ That's stalking. _

_ i was merely proving it was me _

_ why are you in your office this late _

_ Just some extra paperwork. Why are you awake this late? _

_ just some extra paperwork _

_ Haha. Well, I hope your extra paperwork is better than mine. _

Villanelle glances back at the screen, before looking back and typing her response.

_ its not _

Eve moves away from the window, head hunched down.

_ Did you ice your hand? _

_ yes, doctor Polastri _

_ Good. _

As Villanelle is in the middle of typing her response another text comes in.

_ How busy are you with your extra paperwork? _

Villanelle smirks and makes her way to her spare room turned walk-in closet.

_ i could use a break why _

Her phone rings and Villanelle frowns. She wanted Eve to invite her over or to ask to come over.

"This is editor-in-chief of Villanelle speaking. How may I help you?" Villanelle greets, showing off her title.

"Editor-in-chief?" Eve asks in disbelief.

"You really never looked me up?" 

"No, never. I told you I wouldn't."

Villanelle leaves the room and hops down on the couch in front of her TV. She mutes it then clicks play.

"People tell me stuff all the time, Eve. Doesn't mean they aren't lying."

"Did you ice your hand?" Eve asks.

Villanelle glances at her purple split knuckles that haven't touched ice in months. "Yes."

Eve laughs. "People tell me stuff all the time. Doesn't mean they aren't lying."

"What are you gonna do Dr. Polastri? Spank me?" 

Silence. Then quiet muttering. Finally, a change of subject. "Why were your knuckles cut?"

"So extra paperwork at 2 in the morning?" Villanelle continues, ignoring Eve. "Is extra paperwork the name of your paramour?"

"As if I could ever get someone else to love me," Eve says with a twinge of bitterness as if she was repeating someone else's words.

Villanelle sits up and crosses her legs. "A lot of people could love you. You're beautiful, funny, and you have amazing hair. You're intelligent and empathetic. I envy your ability to care about people."

"You don't envy me," Eve deadpans.

"Okay, I don't." Villanelle laughs. "But I really like learning about you. You're very intriguing, Eve. Also, you make me better, more well-behaved." 

"I make you better?"

"You saw it today for yourself. I was ready to take off Konstantin's head, but I didn't."

"That's all you, Villanelle. You're helping yourself, and I'm just guiding that."

Villanelle rolls her eyes and lays her free arm along the back of the sofa. "That is by far the most therapist-y thing you have ever said."

"I wish I could be a 24/7 therapist to myself."

"Is everything okay?" Villanelle asks for the first time in her life with no ulterior motive. She just genuinely wanted to know how Eve was.

"I may have made an easy divorce super complicated so no."

"You and the mustache are getting a divorce?"

"I…" Eve trails off.

"Can't tell me that? Are you charging me for this phone call?"

"No…"

"Then just talk to me as a friend."

"Villanelle, I can't be your friend."

"Actually, Eve, ethically you are allowed to be my friend as long as you aren't taking advantage of the friendship."

"I know, but you need people to put boundaries up."

"I do not want you to." 

"Will you ice your hand and go to bed?" Eve tries to change the subject. Desperation chokes on her words.

Villanelle isn't giving up, but she understands that letting someone know that you are there for them, but then not pressing the subject will make them open up at another time. Playing the long-game. "Yeah, goodnight Eve." 

"Goodnight, Villanelle."

Villanelle hangs up the phone and unmutes the TV. Oksana's loud and wailing sobs echoing through the penthouse as Villanelle slides to the floor, pulling her knees to her chin and watching the forcefulness of Oksana's father. His utter need to have control.

The one time he lost control of a situation is when his head popped.

Villanelle sighs, the itching edge of control fighting the back of her mind too. Finally, she gives in and reaches back her phone sending a quick message of  _ hey, do you wanna come over  _ and getting up to pop out the VHS and hide them in her closet.

* * *

In socks and one of Villanelle’s light lavender button-ups, Villanelle catches Nadia cooking breakfast, humming a song under her breath. Villanelle sneaks over to the pancake batter and steals a chocolate chip before twirling Nadia around and kissing her harshly.

“Good morning,” Villanelle greets, lips vibrating against Nadia’s. Usually, she didn’t let her spend the night, but now that she can fuck Nadia against the window and sometimes catch Eve in her office… well, it seemed ridiculous not to let Nadia spend the night. “You made yourself welcome to my food?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Nadia responds nervously.

Villanelle laughs and moves away to sit on the counter. “I am just giving you a hard time. I will never say no to food being made for me.”

Nadia flips a pancake. “So, what was Konstantin’s surprise last night?”

“What?” Villanelle asks.

“You mentioned he had something planned for you yesterday.”

“Oh, yes... _ that _ . He took me on a real estate sale with him and then we had dinner. I think he’s trying to get me to make friends.” Villanelle thinks about Eve. She is trying hard to make friends, even if it's just friends. That would be a start. Even being friends with Eve and watching movies would be more stimulating than sex with Nadia, or someone else.

“With his client?”

“Yes, with his  _ client _ . She seemed nice.”

“That’s good. He may be right. I don’t think you have many friends.”

“Are we not friends?” She wants to know what Nadia thought they were. Villanelle had been considering her options and when the movie came out she would need a red carpet date for the premiere and any award shows. Nadia is attractive, well-mannered, and quiet which would make for a good partner at these events. Avoid any scandals. Plus, owning a Russian company and dating another Russian would make the board happy, rather than her dating a certain American.

On the other hand, the tabloids would dig into the fact that Villanelle was very loud about her anti-

social personality disorder and if that meant she could be in a healthy relationship with Nadia. They loved labeling her the psychopath. Probably made thousands every time that word was on the cover of a magazine.

“Yes, we are,” Nadia says, timid. Always second-guessing herself. It reminded Villanelle of Anna. A lot of things about Nadia reminded her of Anna. Maybe that's why she was drawn to her. Besides age, they were practically the same person. 

“Are we just friends?” Villanelle slinks off the counter and pulls Nadia away from the stove, resting her hands on her hips and tracing small circles with her thumbs. 

“I… I don’t know,” Nadia admits, Villanelle’s seduction obviously working.

Villanelle slides her hands up Nadia's sides, the front of her shoulders, then in her hair, shaking it out to be a bit more voluminous. "I have a photoshoot I need to supervise today and then an interview. Do you want to get dinner afterward?" She tilts her head, knowing that's exactly what Nadia wants. That for people like Villanelle, simply having a dinner was making things official.

"That would be nice."

Villanelle grins then scrunches up her face at the smell of a burning pancake. "That," she nods towards the pan, "is less than nice." **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling you guys are gonna kill me for every single thing that happened in this chapter so I'm a bit nervous to hear what y'all think


	10. She Wants Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so on a lighter note, a more playful chapter featuring three dumb-ass bisexuals

Kenny is quiet, well-mannered, and surprisingly non-judgemental. As they walk through the Porsche Centre, he doesn't say much besides pointing out a car here and there. Never asks why Eve is suddenly buying a car, or what happened to her ten-year-old Ford Fiesta. 

They met through a dinner at Carolyn's, he was still in Uni at the time. Software Engineering. Went nowhere and now he handles the online aspects of Martens Counseling. Eve doesn't know if she'd really consider him a friend, more so Elena is friends with him and she works for his mum, so they are cordial.

And when Eve asked during her two-hour break between clients if he could drive her to the Porsche Centre, he simply said  _ Alright. _

So here they were now, walking around and Eve already knew the vehicle she wanted, but she wanted someone to walk up to her. To attend to her for once. Kenny and her were glanced over once or twice, but apparently, the salespeople think too lowly of the boy in pea green Chino shorts and a white polo, and the middle-aged woman in jeans that didn't come torn, like they are now from use, and a simple grey v neck, sunglasses pulling on the v. 

It's an abnormally warm day for early April. 

"Eve, do you want me to ask him for help?" Kenny finally speaks up after they've circled the floor for the second time. 

"No, I'm still thinking." Eve grabs her phone from her back pocket, first instinct to call the wealthiest person she knows. Someone who would be good at negotiation and has mentioned they buy a new car every few months.

But that would be irresponsible.

Her and Villanelle aren't friends. Can a therapist ask their client for help?

Villanelle would give it. Eve is positive Villanelle would be very  _ giving _ for anything Eve asked.

Eve rolls her eyes.

"Villanelle Astankova speaking."

Her voice is slightly distant, probably a bluetooth headpiece while she's working.

Fuck. Eve's probably interrupting her work, she shouldn't have-

"Try posing her with one leg out of the tub-No! The other one- I'm going to step out, take some photos like that." Villanelle talks to someone else, voice demanding and firm, before going quiet for a few seconds. "Sorry about that. Cover shoot. I didn't catch who this was," she sounds annoyed and angry that someone is calling her phone.

"It's-" Eve's voice cracks and she clears her throat. "Eve Polastri."

"Eve!" Villanelle exclaims, no longer sounding pissed off. "What can I do for you? Decided to give me the boot?"

"No," Eve laughs, "nothing like that. I actually wanted to ask… how do you come off rich?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean-"

"No, it's fine. I'm just confused."

"Why?"

"Eve… you are rich. I'm sure your other clients aren't paying any less than me, plus you bought a house from my uncle which I know is a few million-he told me you bought it with your own money. Not a loan."

Eve couldn't argue with that. She is rich. Like, richer than some celebrities. Yet, here she was feeling like maybe she wasn't. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

Eve scoffs and glances at Kenny, who's walked off to a vending machine. "Make me realize who I really am, compared to who I've been acting to be."

"Because we are the same."

_ She reminds me of me _ .

They both have something inside of them that they contain. Villanelle is hiding something from the tabloids, the media, her company, and Eve has been hiding herself from everyone.

"I think we would both benefit greatly from a friendship, Eve," Villanelle continues when Eve doesn't speak. "We know each other better than we know ourselves."

"Villanelle, we can't be friends."

"Because of ethical code? Scared HR will have you fired?"

"No, a friendship would be fine. But we both know this would never stay just a friendship. We wouldn't be able to keep it just that," Eve admits.

_ We wouldn't want to keep it just a friendship _ .

Villanelle chuckles. "Well, we could always try, Eve."

_ Try what? _

"But, anyways, is that all you needed?"

Eve looks around, having never negotiated buying a car herself and not wanting to pay the full price on a car like she just did a few days prior with a house. Niko bought all their cars, even if it was mostly done using Eve's money."How do you negotiate when you buy your cars?"

"Where are you?"

"Porsche."

"Which one?"

"Mayfair."

"Oh, that's not far… a ten minute walk… meet me at Cafe L'express, I'll take my lunch now, then I'll negotiate for you."

"I just said we can't be friends."

"This isn't friends, this is just… me giving you a favor after you've been helping me for the last few months."

Eve considers it. She was really in over her head, and she doubt’s Kenny will be much help at negotiating.

"Okay."

* * *

"Listen, you can't tell your mom," Eve explains to Kenny the tenth time as they walk towards Cafe L'express, phone out for directions.

"Because we are meeting with your client out of the office?"

"Exactly. Glad you-"

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

_ That's what an editor-in-chief looks like. _

Eve figured Villanelle would be well dressed because she was coming right from a photoshoot.

She didn't expect the white suspenders attached to white high waisted pants, framing a white and blue pin-striped shirt with a tie to finish the look off.

Villanelle grins and waves, spotting Eve and Kenny before quickening her pace to meet them at the door to the café, a small white building right on the corner. A couple of small tables are outside for two people.

"Good afternoon, Eve, Kenny," Villanelle greets, rolling up her sleeves due to the weather.

"Hi, Villanelle." Kenny's voice carries a twinge of annoyment.

“You two know each other?” Eve asks.

“Yes, Konstantin and Carolyn are… friends,” Villanelle explains with a wink, opening the door for her company. “They make a friendship work very well. When I first moved to London, Konstantin would drag me along to Carolyn where Kenny and I would tend to get into trouble.”

“More like Villanelle would encourage me to hack into government websites,” Kenny clarifies. “Encouragement was often involving some sort of physical harm too.”

“Why?” Eve walks into the small cafe, stopping to look at Villanelle.

She shrugs in response. “It was something to do.”

“Wait, did you guys hack into MI5’s email system?” Eve remembers a time that she got some very… incredulous emails from Bill before she quit that he claimed he never sent. Still to this day they laugh about it.

“Why are you asking?”

“I used to work at MI5.”

“Then no. We never hacked into any government website...ever...promise.”

The three grab their food, then head outside to eat. Although, Kenny doesn’t stay long after Villanelle assures him that she can walk Eve back to the dealership and help her. There was an odd tension between the two, that Eve couldn’t quite figure out.

“He caught me fucking the guy he liked in Uni. Then I kept fucking the guy just to piss him off more,” Villanelle explains when Kenny is gone.

“Kenny’s gay?”

“Bisexual, I believe. Never asked.” Villanelle leans back in her chair, tilting it on the back two legs and Eve wants to scold her. “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Where are you swinging? Married to a man, but want to fuck me… so bisexual too?” Villanelle drops her chair forward. “Or has a woman never touched you?”

_ Will I be the first? _ Is the question Eve can hear.

“I don’t want to… have sex with you. And yes, only men. Straight-I’m straight.”

“But we can’t be friends because it won’t stay just friends? Tell me, as a straight woman, what you meant by that?”

Eve sighs, putting her face in her hands, regretting every decision that led to her asking Villanelle for help.

Metal scraps against concrete and Eve’s tray disappears. “Well, Dr. Polastri, show me to the car I’m practically buying.”

“You aren’t buying it.”

“Except I am. I’m negotiating the price of it. It’s my money I’ve given you that’s buying it. The only thing is, I don’t get to keep it. The worst deal I’ve ever made.”

Eve shoves Villanelle as she stands up. “Shut up. It’s not just your money.”

Villanelle feigns a tumble, although not falling all the way down because why would she want those pants to touch the ground. “Wow, Eve. Physical contact with your client? Scandalous.” She tosses the trays and swipes Eve's sunglasses.

* * *

Eve drops Villanelle back off at her office in her new white Porshe. Villanelle is scrolling through her phone, when Eve pulls over on the curb. She doesn’t notice.

Eve clears her throat. “Thank you.”

Villanelle doesn’t respond.

“Villla-”

A phone is shoved in her face.

Eve leans back and takes the phone.

_ Villanelle Astankova Finally Dipping Her Foot Into The Dating Pool? _

Underneath the headline is a picture of Eve and Villanelle having lunch together. Eve is in the middle of a bite while Villanelle has a huge grin and holding her hands up.

“Eve, I have a date tonight that was supposed to have this headline,” Villanelle states.

_ A date? _

She files that for another time.

Eve keeps scrolling through the article. There’s more pictures of them walking together and entering the Porsche Centre together. “It’s just one article.”

“There’s dozens by now. It always starts at one article. Then two then four then eight-”

“Villanelle, just tweet about it or something.”

“They are saying I bought the car for you.”

“You didn’t, though.”

Villanelle takes her phone back and sighs. “That doesn’t matter. They can say whatever they want and that’s what the next article will write and that’s- Konstantin is calling me.” Villanelle answers the phone, staring at Eve. “Hello, dear un-” she shuts up and her eyes widen. 

Eve looks away and around to see if anyone is taking pictures of them now. 

“I was just helping her negotiate the price of her car. I told you, I’m not going to fuck her.”

Eve’s head jerks back over to Villanelle.

_ What? _

Villanelle smiles like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Eve just laughs and shakes her head. “Jesus Christ.”

“I have a date tonight, Konstantin….with the barista… yes, that one...No!” Villanelle exclaims. “If the date tonight doesn’t take care of it, then I’ll make a statement. Otherwise I do not want any attention brought to Eve. I don’t even want her name out there… Okay, bye.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I just need to make a couple phone calls and make sure your name doesn’t come out, otherwise you’re going to be swarmed with people questioning you.”

Eve reaches over and grips Villanelle’s knee. “I’m not worried about that. This has happened a few times before where a client mentions me and then people try to interview me. I’m asking about you.”

“I hope Nadia does not see the articles and assume the worst. It’s also part of the reason I do not want your name to come out in any articles.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well  _ Eve _ , Nadia thinks I have a certain biblical fantasy involving a certain biblical name. So it would be rather bad if she found out my therapist shares that name.” Villanelle smirks and unbuckles her seatbelt, getting ready to exit the car. She slips Eve's glasses back on.

“You…” Eve is speechless. Her cheeks flush as her brain puts the image of Villanelle moaning  _ her name _ while she- “Oh my god.”

Villanelle leans into the car, one hand on the top and the other on the door. “I told you. I think about you all the time, too. See you later,  _ comrade _ ." Villanelle says it with somehow a fake-sounding Russian accent then salutes, her fingertips touching the corner of Eve's aviators.

The door clicks shut and Villanelle disappears.

Physically, at least.

But she’s definitely still trapped in Eve’s mind as Eve’s body  _ still _ reacts to her confession. When her hands start cramping, Eve notices she’s gripping the steering wheel tight enough her knuckles turn white. Although, that’s not the only area on her body she’s noticing. 

_ Goddammit, Villanelle _ , Eve thinks, gripping the gear shifter and pulling away from the curb. She tells herself that that’s just a normal human reaction to hearing about your name being used during sex. That she’s not questioning herself because it's Villanelle, in particular, that’s saying her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was three different versions of this chapter and one of them did involve Eve seeing a half-naked Villanelle. So... just so you guys know that's something that almost happened


	11. Rule Number 4

"I can't believe you just _bought_ a house." Elena sat on the floor by the lonesome coffee table because the sofa and chairs haven't been delivered yet. Her feet are tucked to her right and her left-hand holds her up. On the concrete coffee table sits a bottle of red wine and a wine glass.

Eve laughs and pours more red wine into her glass. "I can't believe I didn't do it sooner."

"That bad?"

"No. It wasn't bad at all because it would have to been good first."

"When you introduced me to him at that office party I couldn't believe you were with someone like him."

"I know, but he loved me so much."

"And think about some of the obsessive fans our clients have. They just _love_ them so much. Doesn't mean our clients should just be marrying every one of their fans."

"One of my clients had a fan living in a wing of their house," Eve tells Elena.

"You're bullshitting!" Elena exclaims.

"Not at all. Apparently, she told the maid that she was dating my client and that's how she got away with it."

"I wish I was _her_ therapist," Elena says thoughtfully and takes a sip of wine. "Speaking of clients, I saw Villanelle Astankova walking into your office _and_ saw an article about someone looking very similar to you having lunch with her."

There are a million reasons why Eve doesn't want to talk about Villanelle, number one being the last time she saw her, she was fucking her new girlfriend against the window facing Eve's office, the night after she told Eve she calls Nadia, Eve, which Eve is sure wasn't an accident when Eve's office lights were on. Or maybe Villanelle was the one being fucked, picturing Eve fucking her.. Although, besides the fact that Eve thinks Villanelle would like to be in control even during sex, Eve figures VIllanelle would have purposely picked Nadia up and positioned her against the window so that she could look into Eve’s office.

Not that Eve thinks about Villanelle having sex.

Just because, you know, Villanelle is intelligent and picky about getting what she wants.

" _Elena_ , I'm not talking about my client, the other day it was just because she was helping me buy a car." Eve already cleared the whole situation with Carolyn, who questioned her about relationships with clients. And to never ask clients for favors again.

_No, I’m not seeing my client… I needed help buying a new car… yes, I understand._

Eve hangs a large painting on the wall. Slightly abstract fashion painting. She wasn’t particularly into fashion but she could tell whoever painted it was. Their passion was so strong that Eve wished she knew them because she'd probably fall in love with them.

"Oh? So you're telling me you just happened to buy a Villanelle on accident?" Elena looks pointedly at the painting.

"What?" Eve turns back to the painting, taking back every thought she's had about it. "No! No. No. She's a fucking artist?" 

"Used to be a fashion illustrator towards the end of University and the beginning of her career. Then switched over to journalism and started _Villanelle_ fashion magazine on her 24th birthday. The same day she officially got 50% ownership of the company. Two years and 30 issues later, it’s one of the biggest magazines up there with Vogue and Elle."

"Just fucking wonderful." Eve sets her glass of wine on the 3-tier silver and glass bar cart directly under the painting. Her hands come up and she tugs her hair into a bun. 

"You really don't search your clients?"

"No, Elena. I feel like that's an invasion of privacy. If they wanted me to know something they would tell me."

"You are the only therapist in our entire office to take the ethic thing so seriously. I'm pretty sure Carolyn has even slept with a client here and there." Elena stands up and carries the bottle and glass of wine over to the bar cart. "I talked to Bill the other day."

"That's never good for me," Eve states. 

"He thinks you have a crush on one of your clients." Elena's maroon nails tap against the silver frame. "I can only wonder if it’s the one you had a lunch date with."

Eve rolls her eyes and walks away. 

"It's not unethical, Eve. It's human. I mean have you seen Villanelle?"

"I have. I see her every other week. Because she is my client. I don't have a 'crush' on one of my clients."

"If she wasn't your client, would you?"

"No, because I'm not even going to humor that idea because now she is always my client. Even if she got a new therapist, she would be a former client and it would still be wrong of me. Besides, I'm not even gay." Eve looks at the coffee table. A hundred kilos of concrete covered in acrylic where one square concrete slab sat on top of the other. "Do you think this is a bit much?"

"Eve… I am a therapist too. I know when people try to change the subject they are hiding something." Elena walks over. "How much did you pay for it?"

"A little over 450."

"Eve!" Elena scolds. Then she laughs. "God, I love this new Eve. Do you want to go to Bora Bora next weekend?"

"Sure, why-"

Eve's doorbell rings.

"Did you order food?" Eve asks while walking towards the staircase.

"No, because you just kept saying I don't care when I asked what you wanted," Elena replies.

It was only six o'clock so it wasn't completely weird for someone to be here. But besides people around the office and Bill, no one knew about her new home. Eve didn't really have many friends because all of her 'friends' were Niko's friends.

Eve strolls through the entranceway making her way to the front door. Standing on her tiptoes, Eve glances through the peephole. Konstantin stands, holding a bottle of some sort of liquor. She undoes the deadbolt and opens the door.

"Hi, Kon- Villanelle." 

Villanelle stands a few steps behind Konstantin. Enough of a distance that she wouldn't have been seen through the peephole. Yellow streetlights shine dully against her attire, a completely leather suit with the blazer undone and having to be held in place by some sort tape. There is _a lot_ of exposed skin, that Eve is trying to process.

"Good evening, Eve. I was having dinner in the area and wanted to stop by and drop off a gift," Konstantin holds up the champagne.

"Oh." Eve then shakes her head, looking away from Villanelle's piercing eyes. "Sorry! Where are my manners? Come in and head on upstairs."

Konstantin walks in and Villanelle follows, stopping by Eve and handing Eve her 'gift'. She also kicks off her heels, unlike Konstantin who walked upstairs in his boots, which doesn't go unnoticed by Eve.

"Flowers?"

"Very special flowers, look at the card later," Villanelle says. She looks Eve up and down, smirking. "Wealth looks good on you, Eve."

Eve looks down at her outfit. She bought almost an entirely new closet yesterday after closing on the house. The fact that Villanelle could tell the difference so quickly between the YSL roll-neck sweater and her black roll neck from H&M, impressed Eve. Plus Eve had on skinny jeans that cost the same amount as her entire old closet and it was probably the first time Eve's owned skinny jeans since 2006.

Villanelle walks in and goes upstairs.

_Don't see the art, please don't see the-_

"This is a lovely painting Eve!" Villanelle exclaims.

"Fuck," Eve whispers while shutting the door. She makes her way upstairs. "You think so? I just found it on some website. I don't even know the artist to be completely honest."

Elena raises an eyebrow.

"You don't?" Villanelle asks while grabbing three champagne flutes from the second rack of the bar cart.

"Not a clue," Eve says, holding the flowers.

"Hm," Villanelle answers. "Well, Konstantin brought champagne."

"Go ahead and pop it without me. I'm going to find something to put these in." Eve gestures towards the flowers. 

"Can I follow to get some water? I don't drink," Villanelle says. 

"Sure," Eve agrees to be polite. She leads Villanelle to the mostly empty kitchen on the second floor. There's new dishware she hasn't put away yet. The empty boxes tossed in the empty dining room.

"Is this your first or second night here?" Villanelle makes small talk.

"Second."

" _Cool._ "

For some reason, that one word coming out of Villanelle's mouth pisses Eve off beyond belief. Villanelle probably already knew Eve was no longer in her office because she just had to fuck her new _young_ girlfriend against the window facing her office. She jerks around. "I thought I told you we can't be friends."

"Oh, so we can only spend time together when you decide so?” Villanelle asking, watching Eve’s retreating form into the kitchen. “Eve, I'm just here because you bought a house through my uncle." Villanelle follows behind Eve who turned and walked further into the kitchen. "We were having dinner to go over the contract about the movie and then he informed me that he wanted to drop a bottle of champagne off. A housewarming gift and an apology."

_Are the flowers your apology?_

"So you just happened to get flowers too?" Eve sits the flowers down and leans against the counter.

_You just happened to fuck your girlfriend against the window facing my office?_

"There was a boutique open across from the liquor store. I just popped in and had a simple arrangement made." Villanelle sits her hand on top of Eve's. "I was trying to be nice."

Eve sighs. It was just an act of kindness. Or it would be if this wasn't Villanelle.

"Eve," Villanelle breaks the silence, and her tone says she's bringing up the other night. Which means she was the one fucking her girlfriend. And was looking down into Eve's office. Probably saw Eve watch-

"Don't be jealous. I told you, I only feel things when I'm with you. It’s not her I want beside me at all these events. Like you said-”

Eve looks over and finishes the statement, “You don’t want anyone else.”

Villanelle nods, eyes darting downwards.

“Then why?”

Her eyes trail back up, scanning Eve’s face for the type of emotion that was said in.

_Disappointment?_

_Confusion?_

_Curiosity?_

Even Eve didn’t really know herself.

Villanelle sighs. "A few reasons. Nadia is Russian, which will make the board happy. She's also not a celebrity, or a model, or something, which makes the articles happy."

"And why will it make you happy?" Eve inquires, getting ahead of herself and assuming there is something in it for Villanelle.

Villanelle looks at Eve from under her lashes. She breathes for a few seconds. " _She_ wants me."

_You don't want me_.

No smirk or grin. Just a bored, expectant look like she turned off all feelings for Eve in a few seconds.

Eve wets her lips, looking around, trying to think of something to say, trying to think of how to say keep pushing my buttons, trying to think of a way to say I want you without admitting to herself that she wants Villanelle.

"It’s not like..."

"It’s not like..." Villanelle mocks. "We should probably get back downstairs. Unless you have something-"

"I do."

Villanelle raises an eyebrow. "You do?"

"I do," Eve repeats, voice firmer the second time. Then she turns back to the faucet. "Can you settle for tap water?"

"Anything is good," Villanelle whispers and still hasn't moved her hand from Eve's. 

Eve turns to grabs a cup, suddenly realizing Villanelle's left hand was cupping her left hand which means Villanelle was right behind her-now right in front of her. Because of their height difference Eve is staring right at Villanelle's lips, or at least that's what she tells herself.

"I was wondering if we could switch to weekly sessions?" Villanelle asks, biting her lip afterward which Eve knows is to contain a smirk.

Eve looks up into her eyes. "Why?"

"Well, with this movie and stuff. I'm worried it might stir up some stuff and you are so good at helping me. Only if you can fit it in your schedule."

"I can. Anything to help you," Eve says.

"Anything?" Villanelle allows herself to look down at Eve's lips. “Because you do?”

Eve nods, not speaking, watching. Watching as Villanelle’s hand moves from her hand. Watching as Villanelle brushes a hair from her face- _feeling_ as Villanelle brushing away a strand of her hair that's fallen from her bun.

_Oh god._

Her client is going to kiss her.

_She wants her client to kiss her._

Just as Eve is accepting the fact that Villanelle is going to kiss her and that she wants that to happen, there's a loud pop from downstairs and Villanelle jumps back. For a moment her eyes flicker around the room then she looks back at Eve.

"Sounds like they popped the champagne," Eve states, noting Villanelle's panic at the loud noise.

Villanelle nods once and grabs two white cups off the counter. "One for the flowers, I don't see any vases," she explains.

Eve nods and turns back around to fill the cups.

"Do you want the original of that painting? I have it."

"You have it?"

"Eve, that is my painting," Villanelle comes up beside her again, putting her elbows on the counter and leaning forward. She looks up at Eve. "You had to of known."

"Elena told me just before you got here. I didn't know when I bought it." Eve hands Villanelle her cup of water.

"Elena...she works in the office too?"

"Yeah. I guess she saw you going into my room, plus she's a bit of a fan and recognized me in the pictures. I didn't tell her anything about you."

"I know, Eve. You are very trustworthy. I have had other therapists try to go to sell what I've told them to the media. That's why you are the first one I've told about Anna." Villanelle runs the pads of her thumb along the cup while looking inside it.

"I'll never do that to you."

Villanelle looks back up at Eve and smiles before nodding. She stands up and reaches for the flowers, taking the floral wrap off and the card out. "Do you like these? They aren't as exp-"

"I love them. Thank you," Eve says while wrapping her hand around the flowers. She opens a drawer that's already becoming a junk drawer and takes out a pair of scissors. She snips the ends off and places them in the cup of water.

Villanelle places the card in front of the cup. "Congratulations, Eve."

Eve looks at Villanelle. Really looks at her. Sees the innocent smile from moments ago, the furrow of her brow when she's thinking. Sees the wolfish grin of flirtation, or the bit of sadism in her mind that she shares with only Eve. 

She sees everything that makes Villanelle entirely too much for Eve and all the ways a friendship could go wrong, and yet, she disregards it. "I think we could try being friends."

Like a dog, Villanelle's head tilts. Then she gives an uncontainable grin. "I would like that, Eve."

They head back downstairs so Eve could get a drink of her housewarming present before Elena drinks it all. They only stick around for twenty or so minutes, but it's twenty minutes of small smiles and either Eve or Villanelle getting caught staring by the other. And all Eve could think of, is how similar it was to finding out your crush liked you back in secondary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all should go look what number 4 is on the UKCP 2019 pdf...


	12. Come With Me

To some disappointment, Eve is forgotten about almost immediately. Instead the media loves the idea that the ‘psychopath,’ what they just love to call her instead of writing out, ‘who deals with an antisocial personality disorder,’ is willing to be romantic for the poor, barista working off her student debt. With no calls from Konstantin or the other board members, Villanelle figures they’re happy too.

Three weeks, three sessions, and three lunches as friends with Eve. Villanelle is thrilled. Sure, Eve hasn't invited her over to her house again yet or anything, but they had lunch together. The tabloids don't even talk about the lunches, they're so in love with Nadia.

Only if Villanelle could be just as in love with Nadia as them.

"Do you want to go out with my friends and me later tonight?" Nadia interrupts Villanelle's thoughts.

Villanelle's tongue pauses from licking buttercream frosting off of one Nadia's stainless steel spoons.

Villanelle would like to meet Eve's friends.

Villanelle has met Elena, she likes Elena.

But there had to be more right?

Or was Eve more like Villanelle, rather be alone than surrounded with people who you have to wear a mask around?

"They are your friends? Not mine?" Villanelle finally decided on saying.

"Yes… but they want to meet you," Nadia leans back against the counter in her studio apartment. Villanelle spent the night after deciding it was closer than hers.

"You've told them about me?" Villanelle puts the lid back on the frosting and walks her spoon to the sink.

Nadia nods.

"What do you tell them?"

"That you are nice. Romantic."

Villanelle contains herself from laughing while washing the spoon. That was probably the weirdest description she's heard of herself. And she doesn't think choking Nadia while calling her a different name is very romantic, but… apparently Nadia thinks it is. Villanelle sets the spoon in the drying rack before turning and staring at her.

Her bed head meant her hair was still extra curly, extra big. Extra _Eve_.

"Come here," Villanelle commands.

Nadia listens without a word and takes the hand Villanelle holds out to her.

Using her other hand, Villanelle threads her fingers into Nadia's hair and watches it on her fingers.

"Where are you and your friends going tonight?"

"Egg London."

Villanelle sighed. She knew the club, and the type that went. "I don't even drink."

"It's fine, they won't mind. Please."

Villanelle couldn't care less about Nadia's puppy dog eyes. She was more focused on the waves of hair. "Let me get us VIP, I'll need the names of everyone."

"You'll go?" Nadia exclaims.

"It's a Saturday, I don't have much else to do. A meeting about an NDA.. Plus, I get to dance with you, covered in a bunch of stranger's sweat. Sounds amazing," Villanelle jokes.

Nadia rolls her eyes but thanks Villanelle with one kiss.

Then a second.

A third on Villanelle's neck.

"You know if you really want to thank me…" Villanelle trails off with her neck extended for Nadia to trail down.

Nadia gets the hint and drops to her knees, bringing Villanelle's crushed velvet Calvin Klein underwear with her.

Villanelle spares one glance down to wrap her hands into Nadia's hair before letting her head lull back and to-

" _Oh, fuck, Eve._ "

* * *

“ _Fuck, Villanelle_ ,” Eve says between a bite of a crossiant, and laughter. “An assassin?”

Villanelle is in the midst of telling Eve the story about how she could have become an assassin. How she considered it. “When you get into the line of work my father and uncle are in… you learn there are extra people who make sure things keep going according to plan.”

Carolyn informed her that she would be running a little late to their rendezvous in the park, so Villanelle called her therapist for a pop up lunch. Eve’s “ _yes_!” had been more than enthusiastic.

“Why are you telling me this? Oh my god, do you know assassins?”

“That I know of… I don’t know any assassins but then again, you seem like you could be a little _here’s Eve_.”

Eve flips Villanelle off. “I didn’t see many assassins going around wielding a fire axe during my time at MI5.”

Villanelle smiles, fondly. “Isn’t it weird?”

“Isn’t what weird?”

“The fact that I could have been an assassin and you could have kept working at MI5.” Villanelle bounces her unused straw on one end, flips it, then bounces it on the other end.

“I would have already quit MI5 by the time you got started.”

“Maybe,” Villanelle thinks out loud, “maybe fate would have made you keep working there. _A gut feeling_. That something, _or someone_ , was coming that was going to excite you. Maybe the day I decided to not go down that path, is the day you quit MI5.”

Eve scoffs. “You’re saying all of our life, all of our decisions, are impacted by each other’s choice?” Eve shakes her head. “Fine, if fate is… trying to make sure we know each other… when did you decide not to become an assassin?”

“Ten years ago. I had a plan to castrate Anna’s husband and a few days before Anna and I were caught by the dean,” Villanelle deadpans like everyone just admits to having a plan to castrate someone.

By the way Eve’s face pales and her mouth loosens. Villanelle realizes, she may have been right.

“You quit MI5 ten years ago, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Eve breathes out, brows furrowing. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“I hope so,” Villanelle agrees, falling against the back of her chair and raising her elbows to rest against the top. “Having you chase me around Europe would have been so much more fun than you poking around in here.” Her finger taps against her temple for emphasis. 

“I would have still been doing that. Over-analyzing all of your crime scenes. I would have figured out it was you.”

“That would have been all I could want.” Villanelle falls forward on the table. “Knowing I had your attention. That you would be sitting in some shitty London office waiting in anticipation for me. You would have been the only one smart enough to figure me out. Connect… let’s say someone dying by poison in one country to someone dying by… being beaten to death in a car in another country. Nobody would connect those. They would assume the poison was a woman and the beating was a man.” Villanelle thinks of two interesting murders on the spot.

“You’d make both be flamboyant statements.” Eve laughs. “The pay was shit compared to now.”

“I would buy you nice things. Leave you gifts. A dress, perfume, flowers. Whatever you _desired_.”

“How many people would we have taken down with us?” Eve asks, starting to take it as serious as Villanelle.

“Everyone.”

She reaches forward and grabs Eve’s hand, staring deeply into brown eyes. Eve’s eyes always flicker between Villanelle’s, like she can’t quite handle the intensity of VIllanelle’s stare. It’s something Villanelle finds adorable. Like if Eve looks too hard at Villanelle she'll kiss her or something.

“We would have hurt people around us.” Eve whispers as if this is the part of their conversation that’s become dangerous.

“Are we not now?” Villanelle rebuttals, in the same soft voice. "Niko… Nadia?"

“Hurt each other.”

“Are we not now?” Villanelle repeats, not having a follow up.

“Hurt ourselves, Villanelle.”

“ _Are we not now_?” Her voice, so soft, she wonders if Eve heard her.

Yet, the way her eyes soften, and then she has to look away, tells Villanelle she did hear her.

Eve pulls her hands away from Villanelle and stands to throw her trash away. Villanelle watches the bounce of Eve’s hair with each of her steps before her attention is drawn to her buzzing phone. A message from Carolyn pops up that she is on her way to the park.

“Need to leave?”

Villanelle jumps, head jerking up, before nodding at Eve. “Stuff for the movie and what I’m allowed to have put in it.”

“Probably nothing about assassins,” Eve jokes, ridding the café of the tension of two people who are simultaneously meant to be together but also never be together.

All a bit like some sort of purgatory where these two are meant to suffer for eternity.

Villanelle laughs while getting up. “Really? I was thinking about making my assassin debut right on camera.” She follows Eve out of the café, reaching over her to push open the door.

Eve looks over her shoulder to glare at the taller woman. “Let me know before you do so I can call Bill and get my job at MI5 back.”

“Want to make sure we are still probably not supposed to be together? Agent and assassin?”

“Honestly, I think _it_ ," a _relationship_ , "would be easier if you were an assassin and I was the agent locating you.”

“Capture me with seduction, Eve? _Wow_.” Villanelle opens the door to Eve’s Porsche for her. “I would fall for it, too. Be so excited to have you in my bed, then you would betray my-,” Villanelle grabs her chest, “- _love_ , and use that to innact your revenge on this poor poor girl who just wants to kiss you.”

Eve rolls her eyes while lowering herself into her car and pulling the door away from Villanelle. The window comes down and Villanelle leans into the car. 

“Assassin you would want to kiss me?” Eve asks.

“Yes, but just because client me wants _you_ to kiss _me_ ,” Villanelle admits, before pulling away. She slaps the top of the car and walks around the back of the car, watching Eve pull away, wishing she would have waited to see that pink blush appear on Eve’s cheeks because every version of Eve wants to kiss Villanelle, too.

* * *

“I would prefer if you don’t make me need to fire her. She is a surprisingly good employee,” Caroyln interrupts Villanelle’s thoughts of her early lunch with Eve, while moving a chess piece on the board.

Villanelle tears her eyesight away from the fountain and looks at the board. “Eve?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Villanelle. I know you two are friends, now.” 

“It's not banned. Plus, it's _very_ beneficial to me.” Villanelle moves her knight f6, seeing she’s won the fourth game in a row. “Check.”

Carolyn chuckles while sliding her king over out of check. “You know Eve is in a delicate place right now. Leaving her husband, buying a home, a car, being attracted to her client. To you, all of those are like moves on this board, and you’re just waiting to-”

Villanelle moves her bishop to h6. “Check-mate.”

“Which move are you on right now?”

“I’m good at a board game. This,” Villanelle gestures to the board, “has nothing to do with real life.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re smart. Even though you are so bored with life, you manage to keep out of trouble for the most part. That’s not because you calculate the next things that happen after you make one decision?”

“Are you going to fire Eve?” Villanelle cuts to the chase. 

“If I fired every employee who broke one or two ethical codes, I wouldn’t have any employees. Instead-” Carolyn reaches in her purse and pulls out a packet of papers “-I give them 3 chances.”

Villanelle flips thought the UKCP packet, noticing two lines are highlighted.

_Not exploit or abuse your relationship with clients (current or past) for any purpose including your emotions, sexual, or financial gain._

_Decline any gifts, favours, money, or hospitality that might be interpreted as exploitative._

“So Eve’s already blown through two chances?”

“That depends. Do you feel exploited?”

Villanelle shakes her head, sticking her bottom lip out. 

“Alright. Then that handles that.” Carolyn takes the packet back, Villanelle catching it to stop her.

“Rule number 4. How tightly do you enforce that rule?”

“If I know about it, it’s the only one that gets reported on one chance.”

“But there’s a good chance you wouldn’t know if a client and one of your therapists were fucking? Especially if they were friends who went out and did stuff together?”

“Not unless someone catches them in the act.” Carolyn loves turning a blind eye to anything that's not in paper, something Villanelle appreciated about her.

Villanelle nods and leans back in her chair, bringing her leg up to rest on the other then flattening her Miu Miu sundress. “Did you and Konstantin start fucking before or after he got married?”

“After." Carolyn rises with that. "If you ever feel like Eve is taking advantage-"

"Friends do favors for each other. Oh and speaking of taking advantage of people, Kenny was with het. He’s still very… awkward.” Villanelle folds up the chess board and returns it to it’s box, slipping it into her leather drawstring bag. 

“Yes, well, the last time you saw him you broke his nose and fractured multiple spots in his cheekbone and his orbital bone. It was quite the costly procedure to fix and he was upset when I wouldn’t allow him to press charges. Konstantin paid for it by the way. Although you seem to never thank him for everything he does for you.”

“I didn’t ask Konstantin to help me and force Kenny to not press charges.” Villanelle shrugs. “I almost killed him.”

“To think, all that just because he wouldn’t move from the barstool you wanted to sit in when there was two other ones,” Carolyn says like she knows there’s more to the story. “I should be going, have to baby-sit the children and make sure they are having sex with their clients.”

“Au revoir,” Villanelle says, not really paying attention anymore, lost in thought. Kenny poked his nose a little too far into Villanelle’s business and found out about Anna. When she walked into the kitchen and saw an article about Anna on his laptop, she snapped. It was enjoyable, hitting him, and hitting him, and hitting him. It wasn’t enjoyable when Konstantin yanked her off of him and started yelling in her face. 

She remembers looking over Konstantin’s shoulder and thinking she did kill Kenny. His body was oddly too still, too limp. 

She remembers grinning.

* * *

The smell of sweat and alcohol disgusted Villanelle. For the most part, she avoided clubbing. Not liking to drink because it brings out the sadistic, _I get what I want_ , side of her, what she refers to as her untamed psychopathic parts, where she can’t keep her pretty little mask on anymore. Villanelle didn't care for messy celebrity drunks taking advantage of university students who happened to be fans. Easier to get in bed and easier for people to not believe them the next day.

“Why don’t you drink?” Diego asks, the only other person not out on the dance floor and instead still sitting in the roped off booth.

Villanelle figured out early on that Diego is jealous of her. His eyes watch Nadia more on the dance floor than her own, most likely because Villanelle wished those hips were more mature and belonged to an entirely different person. She fidgets with the cuff of her blue, red, and black brocade suit. “Health. Don’t feel like dying of liver cancer.”

Diego laughs. Completely fake. “You think you’re better than us.”

_I know I am_.

“No. Cancer ran in the family,” Villanelle replies, lying being second-nature to her. She rolls her eyes and gazes at Nadia again.

“How would you know that when neither of your parents lived long enough to get cancer?”

“Excuse me?” Villanelle uncrosses her legs and leans forward. Anger fluttering down her arms and up her neck. 

“You’re going to end up being a fucking psycho like your mother. Both of you killing perfectly good people. Nadia and your father deserve better.”

Villanelle rubs her thumb over her knuckles, taking a breath before answering. “Did you know my father Diego?”

“No, but I-”

“Then I think you shut your goddamn mouth if you’re going to keep bringing him up.”

Diego studies Villanelle before scoffing, satisfied to find a button he can poke at. “Someone has daddy issues.”

“Someone is about to have issues with talking,” Villanelle threatens and stands up.

“You’re not going to do shit,” Diego says, smiling away. "Don't want to make a scene that will impact daddy's precious company."

“Bet I fucking won’t,” Villanelle seethes. “Say one more fucking thing about Anatolj.”

“Do you act like this because you know you aren’t capable of being like him? It’s a good fucking thing you stopped using his last-”

Ice and glass shatter against the floor. 

“I told you to fucking stop!” Villanelle stands over Diego, his hand still up that was holding the glass Villanelle just shattered by slapping it out of his hand. “Next time it won’t be the fucking glass.”

“Go ahead.”

Villanelle’s fist clenches. 

A couple articles.

Being scolded by the board.

Konstantin yelling at her.

Yeah, punching Diego would be worth it.

Eve would be disappointed.

Eve will ask why Villanelle did it.

Her lips will frown, instead of smiling and laughing.

“Villanelle?”

Villanelle didn’t even need to wait a few days to see that disappointed look, although she much preferred it now, under blue and pink lights and above a dark satin shirt showing a decent amount of skin. The scowl gets replaced with a fake smile, and a glance between the unfolding potential assault.

“Care to join me outside for a smoke?” Eve asks.

* * *

“A nightclub?” Villanelle asks, leaning against the alley wall opposite Eve.

Eve laughs, taking a long drag from her cigarette and breathing it out with the last of her laughter. “Elena insisted I needed to get myself out there. She’s very insistent that sex can fix any issue.”

“Like divorce?”

“Like divorce.” Eve studies Villanelle, grazing her eyes over the suit. “Girlfriend?”

"I took my first contract this morning. I'm here to kill someone on the dance floor."

Eve stares, not laughing.

“She wanted me to meet her friends,” Villanelle elaborates, giving into Eve's unamused look.

“Seems like you like them.”

“Absolutely. Probably better than you." 

"I hate to imagine what you want to do to me then."

“I love to imagine what I want to do you," Villanelle instantly flirts with Eve giving her the perfect set-up.

Eve seems to swallow some words down, frowning. She shakes her head and then moves over to the wall beside Villanelle. To move closer right after Villanelle very obviously flirted seemed like a dangerous move on her therapist's part. “What was going on in there?”

“Diego likes Nadia.”

“You don't care about that.”

“True. I… can we not talk about it right now?” Villanelle asks, her voice on the edge of begging. "It's not a friendship discussion."

Eve understood. “Okay so what do you want to talk about?” Eve moves to lean against her shoulder.

Villanelle follows to face her. “Anyone catch your eye in there?”

“Yeah,” Eve sighs when she says it. “I’ve been watching them most of the night. They hadn’t noticed me, though.”

The corner of Villanelle’s lip rises while her eyes sparkle with planning antics. “Have _they_ now?”

“Yes. I have a feeling they’ll be watching me now too.”

“Which do you like?” Villanelle inches closer.

“What?”

“Which do you like?” Villanelle repeats. “Watching them, or knowing _they’re_ going to be watching you?”

“Both.”

Villanelle grins and pulls on a curl of Eve’s hair before straightening up. “How long are you staying here for?”

She seems startled by Villanelle's sudden switch of seduction to just… a pal. “I asked the same thing and Elena said-”

“Until you find someone to go home with?” Villanelle guesses.

“Bingo.”

“Well, hopefully, you don’t run into any assassins,” Villanelle teases before entering the building again, winking as the metal door cuts off her sight of Eve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunter Schafer is talking at SCAD ATL tomorrow and I have no one to go with and I'm literally going to just die because of that, like I can't drive otherwise I would go by myself but guess who still doesn't have their license back 😔😞  
> Also I don't care for this chapter because it's very short and choppy quick scenes but like always let me know how you guys like it. If y'all like longer but fewer scenes or shorter but more scenes


	13. What Do We Do Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry there was only one update this week. I wanted to make sure I felt good about everything in this chapter and that it flowed right.  
> TW: For conversation about childhood sexual abuse

Villanelle's hot breath on her left ear and short fingernails digging into her hips while slightly unhinged club music played was not how Eve Polastri saw her night going.

Pressing her leg against her client and having her practically dry hump her thigh while hearing the words, " _Fuck_ , _Eve_ ," was not how Eve Polastri saw her night going.

Being asked to go back to Villanelle's apartment, in short pants while Villanelle stared at her lips was not how Eve Polastri saw her night going.

Finding child pornography sitting in boxes on her client's floor was not how Eve Polastri saw her night going.

Fingers threaded through blonde hair, listening to her client's soft snore after wearing herself out from yelling at her, was not how Eve Polastri saw her night going.

* * *

_16 hours earlier_

"Yes," Villanelle agrees with the fact that this hypothetical assassin version of herself would want to kiss Eve, "but just because client me wants _you_ to kiss _me._ "

Making Eve make the first move is a real dick move.

Eve frowns as Villanelle leans out of the car and slaps the top hard before walking behind it. 

It was weird being friends with Villanelle, with her client, when there was a silent agreement that they both were attracted to each other. Well, silent on Eve's part. For the most part, even though Villanelle had a girlfriend, she made it clear she only thought about Eve.

Which Eve's been dealing with her own way.

Which she may have been in the middle of 'dealing' with when Villanelle called for an impromptu lunch.

Eve rolls her eyes at herself. This was beyond bad. Frankly, terrible. Fucking herself while thinking about her client, going on lunch dates with her client, being friends with her client.

She had to make sure they always met in public because Eve didn't trust herself to not kiss Villanelle if they weren't in public.

The only thing really going right in this entire 'friendship' is the fact that Eve and Villanelle seem pretty good at separating therapy conversations and friendship conversations.

It took Eve a second, and she still mentally files things Villanelle says in the back of her mind, but she refuses to bring them up during a therapy session unless Villanelle does. Like the fact that Villanelle admitted to being willing to kill people for work today. That is something Eve would love to delve into and really see what that means, but she won't bring it up during therapy unless Villanelle started that conversation.

Villanelle is doing good with it too. She still pushes boundaries and Eve's limits in each session, but she doesn't mention anything Eve's told her out of therapy. Doesn't bring up the divorce or Eve's stories of MI5.

Speaking of MI5, Eve pulls near the curb in front of the Thames house where Bill speed walks to enter her car.

"So is it true?" Bill asks.

"What are you talking about?" Eve glances at him while pulling back into traffic.

"You're late to picking me up because you have a new _friend_?" Bill teases. Without looking at him she can practically see the raised brow.

"I was having lunch, with a person, but they aren't replacing you," Eve replies. "MI5 on a Saturday morning?'

"As Frank says-"

"Turns out people are still murderous bastards on the weekend," Eve quotes the joke that wasn't funny the first time Frank said it, and still wasn't the last time she heard it. "He still says that?'

"Still laughs at it too."

"Gross."

"Some things never change. Like you avoiding talking about this new _friend_." 

She hates the way he says friend every time. "Haven't you heard it all from Elena already?"

"Elena has been even more tight-lipped about it than you, which-" Bill gets ready to lay out his theory.

"No," Eve immediately tried to stop the conversation.

"Maybe this _friend-_ "

"Bill…"

"Might be arrogant," He pauses for Eve's interruption which doesn't come and he continues, "They're completely open with you, but inaccessible? Oh, and _very attractive_?"

Eve takes the chance at a stoplight to glare at Bill. "They aren't my client," Eve lies, because maybe she can keep her job if she just keeps lying.

"Oh? Then what happened to that client?" Bill asks.

"They still come in on Mondays."

"Not a lot to say about them… so this new _friend_ must really be the deal?"

"Can you stop saying friend like that?" Eve can't tell if he believes her, or just knows she can't admit it legally.

"You haven't clarified if these lunches are like when we have lunches or-"

"No, it's definitely not like our lunches."

"So you're seeing them?" Bill teases and over enunciates the _them_ part.

"It's not that either. It's…" Eve sighs. "Me and her both know, or at least I'm pretty sure we do, that we… could take our relationship farther, but it's also like we both know we are adults and we just can't be together, right now." Eve adds on the last two words as a last second decision.

"Her? So is it…" Bill cups his hands over his chest to signal breasts and then wobbles the imaginary breasts, raising an eyebrow.

Eve's hand connects with him. "You are awful!" Then she pauses. "They are nice, but that's not why I'm… interested in her."

"Nice!" Bill shouts with laughter. "Women's bodies turn you into a prude? So if it's not her body, you really like her?"

"I do. More than I think I even know if that's possible."

"Did this start before or after leaving Niko? The last few months you've really been a terrible wife."

"Bill, I am never doing anything with you again," Eve replies to the insult. "And like I said, nothing has started- we haven't kissed or anything. It's been only…" _Professional, Eve? How professional is asking your client if they're in love with you?_ "Nothing's happened."

"Uh huh. So when do I meet this _her?_ "

"Never."

"Oh come on. Has Elena met her?'

"Yes," Eve answers then turns towards Bill. "Not on purpose. She just kinda showed up at my house while Elena and me were unboxing some stuff."

"Can I at least have a name?"

"You know the magazine _Villanelle_?" Eve asks.

"Yeah, it's one of those fashion magazines Keiko let's lay around and never reads." He clicks Eve's garage opener.

"Do you know who the editor-in-chief is?"

"It's the Vasiliev kid isn't it? The orphan?" Bill recalls in a way that Eve feels like Villanelle wouldn't be happy with.

"Yeah. Villanelle Astankova." Eve waits.

Bill pulls out his phone.

Eve mentally counts down in her head. _…. Two. One._

“Eve Polastri what are you getting yourself into?” Bill exclaims. 

Eve turns her car off and let’s her head fall against the steering wheel, facing Bill. “She’s annoying as hell.”

“And admitted to being a psychopath! I understand she did it because it's better to get it out there instead of someone getting a hold of the-” Bill is still scrolling through his phone. "She has a girlfriend, Eve."

"Like I said, me and her both know we can't be together."

"Right now," Bill quotes. "you know… someone like her would need therapy."

"Right now, nothing can happen between us. That's all that matters." Eve leans back.

"Is it worth the wait?"

_Yes_. Of course it's worth the wait. The wait is the easiest part. It's all the things that would happen during the wait that could be detrimental.

Bill gets bored waiting for Eve's answer. "How did you meet her?"

Eve looks at him.

"How are you going to tell people you met if it comes to that?" He corrects.

“I bought the house from her uncle. She happened to be in his office…”

“And you two just hit it off?” Bill finishes.

“To be fair, she made quite the scene.”

“She _is_ a psychopath”

“Okay, Mr. ‘I don’t think Ted Bundy did it’ I don’t need a lesson on psychopathy from you.” Eve exits the car, letting the door just have the edge of being slammed. But over it she can hear Bill’s laughter.

* * *

It takes a few hours for Elena to show up at Eve’s house, alongside Kenny, and then the four of them are off to some club Elena snagged VIP to.

“Eve needs to get laid, _tonight_ ,” Elena says, leaning over the back of the seat in their uber to look between Eve and Bill.

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Just find a tall, blonde, maybe with a _feminine frame,_ and an arrogant attitude.” Bill humors.

Elena grins. “Well-dressed. Russian accent?”

“Multi-”

“Okay, I hate you all,” Eve interrupts, frowning and pressing herself to the window to look at the line to the club.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Kenny stands up for himself. “But Villanelle fits that description.”

“That’s who we were talking about, dumbass,” Elena says and turns back to the front of the car, smacking the back of Kenny’s head.

“Villanelle would never be seen at a club like this,” Eve grumbles.

* * *

“Oh my god!” Elena exclaims, lifting her arm off Eve’s shoulders. “Villanelle is here.”

“What?” Eve asks.

Bill leans forward , scanning around the people. “With her girlfriend.”

Eve glances around the crowd, finally finding Villanelle, looking bored, with her hands on Nadia’s hips. Her suit, matching the color of the club’s lights, fits her frame perfect. Black boots finish off the look. It’s refined, yet fits the club. She looks wealthier than most in here, but not like she doesn’t belong.

Except, with the look on her face, she doesn’t look like she belongs behind Nadia.

“Does she always look so pissed off?” Bill asks.

“She’s bored, not pissed off,” Eve replies.

“Eve’s right,” Kenny cuts in, “You’ll know when she’s pissed off.”

“Oh yeah? You were on the end of that?” Elena lifts her vodka soda and takes a drink.

“Yes,” Kenny gives a one word answer that says he isn’t going to elaborate.

Silence falls over the group, all of them watching Villanelle.

Or Eve assumes they're all watching Villanelle alongside her, because her eyes aren’t leaving the methodical movements of Villanelle’s body. Her sharp chin rests on Nadia’s shoulder, her hand comes up and brushes Nadia’s hair, styled very similar to Eve’s own hair, moving it off the shoulder so Villanelle’s soft, Eve has come to the conclusion she expects Villanelle’s lip to be very soft, lips can trail up her neck and whisper in Nadia’s ear.

Eve’s not jealous. 

At all.

It’s interesting, because besides Nadia being taller against Villanelle than what Eve would be, seeing Nadia from behind is like watching some real life experience of her and Villanelle together.

_Did she call her Eve just now_?

The thought appears in Eve’s mind before she could stop it, and goes straight to the apex of her thighs. 

Eve’s accepted the fact that she’s attracted to Villanelle. While refusing to tell her own therapist about her attraction to her client or talk about that issue, Eve has been dealing with it.

Dealing with it meaning a bottle of red wine, and a brand new vibrator.

It was fine.

Eve predicts there are dozens of men and women that get off thinking about Villanelle. It’s just a fantasy. But… those dozens of men and women don’t have lunch with Villanelle and talk about how they are destined to be together.

Not dancing for very long, Villanelle steps back from Nadia, eyes floating over the room but not quite catching Eve’s, though they do stick to Eve’s general area for a second like she can feel Eve’s presence. Then she strides back to her own table, where there’s a man sitting.

Must be Nadia’s friends, because Villanelle has confided in Eve that she didn’t have many friends.

“Eve, stop stalking Villanelle and let’s dance,” Elena pulls on Eve’s arm to get her off the velvet booth.

“Are you two joining?” Eve asks the men while giving into Elena’s pull. She doesn’t get the chance to hear their response, from Elena, actually dragging her out.

“Do you like her?” Elena questions, beginning to dance.

“Yes.”

“Oh, _wow_ , I didn’t expect you to admit it. Has anything happened?” 

“No. It’s understood between us that nothing can happen.”

“That has to be tough.”

Eve hates the way Elena looks at her with pity. “We’re friends. We make it work.”

“Maybe. You can have all the eye sex you want.”

Eve laughs at that. Dry and pained, like a dying person with a terrible sense of humor. “It’s more than that.”

“You like her like her!” Elena realizes. “Like more than just that rocking bod?”

“There’s just… so much there. Can we just… cool it, though? With all the jokes?”

“Scout’s honor, Eve. I’m sure it’s already a lot for you and I know Bill’s teasing can pry a little deeper than mine since you two have known each other longer.”

“Thanks,” Eve says as genuinely as possible. Her shoulders felt a bit lighter, now having the weight of Villanelle off just her-

Glass shatters.

Eve jerks around to face the noise, _knowing_. 

“I told you to fucking stop!” Crisp, clear russian rings in Eve’s ears.

“Fuck,” Eve whispers, starting to slide through the crowd, feeling the need to get to Villanelle. She registers Elena saying wait, but it doesn’t matter, because she can see Villanelle’s hand beginning to make a fist. “Villanelle!” Eve calls out once. The woman doesn’t hear her.

Eve shoves someone out of her way.

“Villanelle,” Eve says, a lot more firm, even if not as loud.

Villanelle does turn this time. A look of wildness in her eyes, and an unkempt smile on her face.

Eve forces a smile on her face as if she just bumped into Villanelle. “Care to join me outside for a smoke?” 

* * *

After their talk, Villanelle practically _prowled_ the dance floor, watching Eve’s every movement. If Eve began dancing with someone, Villanelle moved her and Nadia so she could stare at Eve.

_Stare_.

There was no other way to describe it. Villanelle didn’t smirk when Eve caught her staring, her eyes didn’t carry any emotion, they were just glued to Eve. Whether she was staring while kissing Nadia’s neck, or staring while Nadia was pressing into her, she was staring.

Whenever Eve looked away for a few moments, she could still feel the stare sinking into her. Sensual and terrifying to say the least. 

Bill was the first to leave.

Then Elena and Kenny five minutes apart because they definitely weren’t going home together.

So, left alone, Eve slipped upstairs into the loft area where people chit chatted in booths and tables. She needed a break from the intensity of Villanelle. 

Then the Russian slid into the seat across from her.

_Why would I ever get a break_?

Villanelle looked at Eve’s drink before glancing back up at her. 

“Stop it,” Eve scolds. “It’s terrifying.”

Finally, Villanelle smiles. “Nadia went home. Her friends didn’t stick around too long after. I do not think they like me very much.”

"Yeah, well at least you didn't punch her boyfriend."

"Punch my girlfriend’s boyfriend," Villanelle repeats then laughs. "You are funny, Eve."

"Have you drank tonight?" Eve wonders aloud.

Villanelle shakes her head and stops laughing. "It's not good when I drink. I probably would have taken Diego's head right off." She lays her arms along the back of the booth, spreading her legs apart. "How about you?"

"Just two."

"Two…"

"Gin and tonics."

Villanelle nods with approval.

And not that Eve needs approval for what drinks she drinks, but she's glad Villanelle isn't judging her.

"Are you going back downstairs? It's a shame I never got to dance with _my_ friends." Villanelle pouts.

"Friends? How many of those do you have now?" 

Villanelle bites a smile before sucking her middle finger into her mouth, a sight that Eve appreciates too well, then, with a pop, flips Eve off. "One."

"Are they here?"

"Piss off, Eve." Villanelle stands up and offers a hand to Eve. "Come dance with me."

"I shouldn't." Yet she's taking Villanelle's hand and letting Villanelle lead her back downstairs. Actions speak louder than words. They are wordless while walking down the stairs and Villanelle leading Eve into the crowd

"Nobody here knows who we are," Villanelle whispers in Eve's ear, finally speaking. She pulls on a fallen piece of Eve's hair. "Take it down."

Actions speak louder than words.

Eve reaches up, pulling on the hair tie, tugging until her hair is realised.

"Can I?" Villanelle asks with her hands near Eve's hair.

"Sure," Eve's voice sounds like it's coming out of the speakers and not herself because never in a hundred years would she allow a client to touch her so intimately.

Gentle fingers thread through Eve's hair from near her ears to the ends. Once. Twice.

"Your hair is so beautiful."

Eve has to wonder where this obsession with hair has stemmed from in Villanelle.

“Turn around,” Villanelle instructs and Eve listens. “Is this okay?”

“Just friends dancing together, right?” Eve says, more so to herself than Villanelle.

A gasp slips out when Villanelle pulls her back into her and doesn’t move her hand from her hips.

“Right.”

 _Right_.

The word sets off something in Eve. A line of thoughts.

_This feels right._

Her hips moving with Villanelle’s _feels_ _right._

Villanelle’s fingers pulling Eve’s tucked shirt out, sliding under just so her index finger can touch Eve’s skin while her thumb still rest on Eve’s denim pants _feels right._

“Who would you be, Eve?” 

Villanelle’s finger on Eve’s left hip leaves to brush her hair from her shoulder. With the way Villanelle breathes on Eve’s ear, for a moment, she thought Villanelle’s lips were on her ear. 

“We can be anyone we want. _So_ , who do you want to be?”

“I…” _want to be yours_ , “I don’t know.”

Villanelle hums, then laughs from deep within her chest. “You try to be the therapist too much. Let me in your head this time.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You want to, don’t you?”

Eve realizes Villanelle’s already in her mind. Already everywhere. Like a rose bush that’s overgrown over her entire brain. Thorns pricking it and hurting her but Eve doesn’t mind because the roses are so beautiful.

“You just want and want and _want_ , Eve.” Her hand drags down Eve’s body before sliding her hand under Eve’s shirt to grip her hip and pull her back into Villanelle, somehow closer than they already were. “You want everything. Everything life has to offer, and no one has been able to give you that, and you are too scared to take everything on your own. Too scared of the risks with what comes with _everything_.”

Eve finds herself nodding. Because _yes._ Yes to wanting. And yes to being scared. _And yes to the way Villanelle’s hips are moving_.

“Do you know who could give you everything, Eve?”

 _Yes_.

But Eve doesn’t vocalize it because for once, words might be louder than anything that’s happening between their bodies right now.

Although, silence isn’t good enough for Villanelle. “Answer me, Eve.”

“Yes.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Villanelle breathes. “And who would that- _Fuck, Eve_.”

Eve turned and pressed herself up into Villanelle, slipping her leg between Vill’s. Savors the way it makes Villanelle forget what she’s saying. “You. You could give me everything. But, I would lose everything.”

“Everything that happens tonight wouldn’t be known to anyone. We are meaningless right now. Like I said, nobody here knows us.”

“We’re just two friends dancing.”

Villanelle frowns, but nods. "I'm sure that's what we look like."

Before long, Eve’s turned back around, letting Villanelle’s body cradle hers. Those _nice_ breasts pressed into’s Eve’s back while those wonderful hands Eve spends to much time thinking about are exploring. Exploring everywhere from Eve’s thighs, to her hips, her waist. _Her neck_. 

Eve sucked in a breath.

Villanelle’s hand stayed on Eve’s neck for a moment, and Eve could have swore she felt the gentlest press of her fingers before her hand moved back to her waist.

They dance facing each other. 

And they dance with Eve’s back against Villanelle.

And they dance with Eve rolling up on her tiptoes, so she can feel the heat radiating off Villanelle’s lips. Lips that pant, and sigh, and split when her tongue darts out on them.

They’re being messy, and sweaty, and needy.

And there’s hands on waists, hands on shoulders, hands on thighs, and arms, and Villanelle’s muscles, and Eve’s ass, and pulling and pressing and feeling and… and...

And at some point, Eve’s eyes fall shut and she allows Villanelle’s words to consume her mind. They were the only two people in the club full of people that knew who they were. Anything outside of the club is meaningless. Who they are is meaningless. There’s no one, no job, nothing, to keep acting for.

Eve thinks about how Villanelle is always pretending. Always wearing a mask for the public. 

So now, now that they are just Eve and Villanelle, is she being _Villanelle_? Messy, and handsy, yet precise and so fucking needy? And is Eve being _Eve_? The person that cusps Villanelle’s hand when it comes back up to her neck and uses her other hand to reach for Villanelle? _Needs_ to feel her?

“You’re getting it,” Villanelle interrupts Eve’s thoughts. 

_Of course, she can read minds_. _Of course she knows-_

Villanelle’s lips press against Eve’s neck, right under their thumbs. The round tip of her nose brushing them. Her mouth open and wet, and just everywhere.

_-exactly what she’s doing._

Her teeth feel like they’re trying to sink in to Eve’s neck the same way Villanelle is sinking it to Eve. Fast, hard, dangerous. Forceful, yet Eve’s moving her neck to allow Villanelle to sink in. Then to soothe it Villanelle nips gently before littering soft kisses.

Eve drops her hand and turns around once more. Her eyes concentrated on Villanelle’s parted lips that are letting out short pants, waiting for Villanelle to-

“Come with me,” Villanelle says. “Spend the night at my place.”

The words seem to knock Eve out of this pretend world where they aren’t anybody. She tears her eyes away from Vill’s lips.

“Villanelle, I can’t.”

“Not for sex,” Villanelle clariefies, even though she’s still not meeting Eve’s eyes, too distracted by Eve’s lips. “Friends have sleepovers, correct? We can watch a movie. Have you seen _Clueless_?”

Eve has. “No, I haven’t”

“Come home with me, we can watch it. We will go out where you smoked in case of paparazzi.”

Eve presses her lips together. She really shouldn’t, but Villanelle now looks happy and hopeful. Her eyes aren’t carrying the same gaze like she wants to fuck Eve here and now, but instead like she’s just thrilled to be in Eve’s prescense. 

“We can pick up ice cream on the way to my place,” Villanelle throws in as an extra offer.

Smiling, Eve can’t help herself now, “Okay, but just for the ice cream.”

“Not my amazing company, and an amazing view from my apartment?”

Eve has a pretty amazing view right here in front of her. “Nope, just for the ice cream.”

“Fine,” Villanelle says with a pout. “I need to grab my jacket, did-”

“No.” Eve let’s Villanelle grab her hand, using the same hand that was wrapped around Eve’s neck, and lead her to the cloakroom.

While they wait for the staff to grab Villanelle’s coat, Villanelle rubs at the elbow of Eve’s shirt, feeling the material. 

“You will wear my jacket,” she states before dropping her hand.

“What?” Eve asks, but her question gets answered when Villanelle is handed a light brown leather jacket and a white helmet. “Oh hell no.”

“I am very good at driving, Eve. You have to trust me.”

“You might be, but what about everyone else?”

“We are not caring about everyone else tonight. It is only us.”

Eve wants to point out that doesn’t mean there isn’t other people on the roadway. Just because they’re pretending they are the only two people tonight, doesn’t mean there is actually other people. “Just for the ice cream,” Eve sighs.

Villanelle gleams. Then holds up the jacket to put on Eve. Sliding one arm in at a time, Eve remembers how Niko would always do the same thing for her.

* * *

“We almost died,” Eve scolds Villanelle as they enter her flat.

“But we didn’t!” Villanelle makes sure to point out.

“You ran three red lights, in a row.” Eve places the helmet on the ground near Villanelle’s door and goes to take her booties off. “At 90 miles an hour!”

Villanelle places their pints of ice cream on the counter and looks at Eve with her jaw dropped. “I was going at least 100. Do not insult me, Eve.”

“You said you were a good driver.” Eve walks over and leans across from Villanelle on the counter.

“I am! Most people can’t do that.” Villanelle opens a drawer and pulls out two spoons.

“Because _good drivers_ don’t!” She takes the spoon and pops open her pint.

“It was fun,” Villanelle finally decides on saying, ending the argument because it was fun. Eve enjoyed locking her arms around Villanelle while adrenaline rushed over her. “I am going to change, do you want something to wear?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” Eve says, realizing she shouldn’t sleep in skinny jeans nor run around in her shirt and underwear at Villanelle’s flat.

“Okay, I will be right back. Make your home.” Villanelle walks away to another room.

Eve smiles to herself at Villanelle butchering of the english saying. She swipes the ice cream off the counter and walks around the flat to the living area. Curiosity gets the better of her and she makes her way to the window. Thoughts of Villanelle fucking Nadia fill her mind. Well, mostly, until those thoughts change from Villanelle and Eve. Then Eve fucking Villanelle. Having her head hit the window, and her pale toned back pressed between Eve and the cool window.

Night air makes the window chilled under Eve’s fingers. The cuff of the leather jacket catches Eve’s eyes and she realizes she has taken it off yet. Using her mouth to hold the spoon, Eve shakes off the jacket, switching which hand holds her ice cream, before folding the jacket and placing it on the back of Villanelle’s couch.

_Making her home_ , Eve smiles again, she sits on the couch and reaches over for the TV remote and clicking the power button.

It takes a few seconds to turn-

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Eve jumps up and turns the TV off as quickly as it turned on.

That was-

“Oh my god,” Eve repeats, feeling sick to her stomach. The ice cream falls to the floor, sending her spoon clattering next to boxes full of VHS tapes and a VHS player that read, _PAUSED_.

Are they all…

Villanelle has a collection of…

Eve can’t even let the thoughts form because she was letting a disgusting, vile, pervert grope and feel her up the entire night. She almost kissed someone who has tapes of child-

“Eve, is everything okay?”

Eve turns her back to the black TV screen, knowing tears are pricking her eyes when she looks at the psychopath that’s walking back into the room like she’s suave and-

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Eve growls. “You fucking-” Eve bites her tongue from calling Villanelle a psycho, just in case. _Just in case_. 

“Eve, what are you talking about?” Villanelle raises her hands slowly, stepping closer just as slow too.

“You have five fucking seconds to explain this.” Eve turns the TV back on, but refuses to turn around to look at it again. “Or I call the fucking police.”

Villanelle stares at the TV. There’s no reaction that would show she enjoys what’s on the TV. “I forgot that’s why I stayed at Nadia’s last night.”

“That’s not a fucking explanation at why!” 

“It’s…” Villanelle seems to choke on a word. “That’s…” She rubs at her neck, looking visibly uncomfortable. “Oksana.”

“Oh, it’s okay because you knew-”

“Oksana Vasilieva.” Villanelle drops her hand, her eyes are still on the TV. “That’s Oksana Vasilieva and her father, Anatolj Vasiliev.”

In the bubbling anger, Eve remembers that Konstantin’s last name is Vasiliev. Villanelle O. V. Astankova. That would mean… “Villanelle, what the fuck are these?”

“My mother… Oksana’s… she made movies starring my father and Oksana.”

"Oksana?" Eve asks, wanting Villanelle to tie Oksana into this. She hits the button to turn the TV back off.

"That was my name before Konstantin took custody of me. Oksana Vasilieva. But he didn't want me getting mistaken for his daughter and he didn't want me to be burdened with a name I didn't like so he let me choose my name. Astankova was my grandmother's last name. I liked staying at her house before she passed away. My full name is Villanelle Oksana Vasilieva Astankova." She doesn’t explain where she got Villanelle from, and right now… that’s okay.

"So your mom made movies of you and… your father?" Eve speaks slowly, trying to see if Villanelle associates herself with Oksana.

Hesitantly, not quite sure, Villanelle nods. “The tapes are numbered.”

Eve looks away from Villanelle, her teeth grind as she flexes her jaw. She looks back down at the VCR tapes. "What's the range on the numbers?"

"9-15 and then 1-12. There's one or two missing here because I was at my grandmother's. Then 15 they only go up to 2 because my mother killed my father because he stopped _playing_ with her."

"Playing? Is that what they called it?" There's a tone in Eve's voice that she's never had before. A tone that even catches Eve off guard.

"Yes. They shared the tapes with their friends then."

"Villanelle…" Eve fist clenches the remote tight enough that her nails press into her palm, fingers wrapped all the way around. "I wish I could have been the one to kill them."

Villanelle looks up, eyes wide and jaw slackened. Such a violent phrase to come from her therapist. Saying something like that couldn't be very ethical.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I just… they were your fucking parents! Your dad's fucking esteemed in your company!" Eve is visibly fuming. "Does anyone know?"

Villanelle shakes her head. "No. Konstantin knows that I keep old tapes but I've told him they are just home videos." Villanelle brings her thumb up to her lip and bites the nail there. Her muscle in her neck twitches. “I tried to get off to them.”

“Vill-”

“No, Eve, it’s my turn to speak,” her voice carries a sudden anger. Clothes are tossed on a near chair, and then her hands slip into her pockets of her grey jersey sweatpants, black drawstrings hanging down the middle. "All of those videos are of Oksana. They are of a life… that happened. It's not _my_ life. I don't consider that person, me. _My life_ started when I saw my mom shove that shotgun in her mouth. Yet," Villanelle pulls her left hand out and wags a finger at the screen. "I can't help but remember all the things they told Oksana. Remind myself what Oksana went through so I can have-'' she holds both arms out to her penthouse, "-this. In some sick way, I will tend to think that I am glad Oksana went through that because otherwise _I_ would not be here. _I_ wouldn't have _Villanelle_. My psychopathy wouldn't have been triggered. I wouldn't need therapy. I wouldn't have met you." 

Eve shakes her head. "Villanelle, no! That's not how that works." Except Villanelle was partially right, psychopathy is often linked to bouts of childhood trauma. She may still have _Villanelle_ , but they would have never met. "You didn't have to go through this."

Villanelle walks to the counter and lifts a small decoration. Flips it over a few times and then begins to toss it. "You fucking…" she repeats Eve's words from earlier. "Pedophile?" Villanelle guesses, pacing back and forth along the back of the couch. Still tossing and catching the small decoration. "No. Doesn't roll of the tongue right does it? Also, if I was a pedophile, I do not think that would hurt me if you called me it and you wanted to hurt me." Small smacks of the decoration hitting her hand echo in the apartment along with her bare feet sticking on the wood floors. "You fucking child molester?" Villanelle shakes her head again. Then all movement and sound stops.

Until the silence is shattered with the TV behind Eve. A heavy cracking with the thud of the decoration.

"You fucking psycho!" Villanelle exclaims and claps her now empty hands together. "You were so angry, Eve! Because you thought," Villanelle slides into an American accent, " _I danced with a psychopath tonight. I let a psychopath grope me, and choke me, and I even went home with her_!" Villanelle's neck twitches as the words get louder. " _I was beginning to think I was in love with a psychopath_!" Villanelle's hands come down on the back of the couch and she shoves it forward. "Jokes on you, Eve! I am a fucking psychopath! Whether that was child pornography of Oksana paused on the TV, or fucking Bugs Bunny paused when he is biting on his fucking carrot, I would still be a fucking psychopath! The person you almost kissed tonight is a psychopath! And if you don't like that then you can fucking leave!" Her hands pull away from the sofa and goes to the door. "This was a bad decision on my part. I should have never expected you to see me different."

"I do." It's such a repeated phrase, that even in this moment, Eve finds a small bit of humor in it. "See you as different, that is. I know, you are a psychopath and I'm okay with that because I don't even think that's the right diagnosis for you. I think some lazy therapist saw some young adult, who gets a little too angry, had a little too much childhood trauma, and was a little too charming and said 'well, that's the recipe for psychopathy,' and just slapped that label on you." Eve steps around the couch and walks towards Villanelle like walking towards a spooked doe. "I'm not going to lie to you. I thought about all those things you said." _I was beginning to think I was in love with a psychopath._ "Because I was swapping the word pedophile and psychopath like they were synonyms in my head. Which isn't true at all, and was wrong on my part. But, Villanelle," Eve reaches her and raises her hand to her cheek, feeling Villanelle flinch away from her instinctively before settling into her hand, "you understand that was just a knee-jerk reaction, right?"

"I do." Villanelle leans more into Eve's hand.

"Do you want me to leave?" Eve asks.

"No, but I do not want to talk about _that_."

Eve lowers her hand and nods. "That's a therapy conversation, okay?"

"Okay." Villanelle gestures towards another room. "There's a TV in my room if you still want to watch _Clueless_. And I will share my ice cream since you wasted yours."

The way Villanelle offers to share her ice cream, makes Eve think she's offering her half of her life's earnings.

"That sounds good. Just let me get changed first?"

“Yeah, just go straight back to my room. I’ll clean up the ice cream you wasted.”

Eve nods and picks up her clothes as she walks down the hall to Villanelle’s room. 

Panels of glass cover two walls, giving an excellent view of London. In the corner of those two walls, the TV hangs from the ceiling. Eve sets the clothes down on Villanelle’s round bed, luxury green and gold sheets specially fitted for the bed decorating the round frame. Before changing she walks over to the light bamboo desk that matches the color of the walls and wood floors. Scattered binders, and unfiled papers cover the left side of the desk, while the right side is somewhat clean, an open black Surface Pro X next to a desktop Surface Studio 2. There’s a red pen stylus on a notebook with bulleted notes.

Villanelle obviously loves her job. This was enough paperwork and technology for a good office right in her bedroom.

To the left of the desk is the door to the balcony, some plants and furniture decorating it from what Eve can see through the glass panels.

Finally there is some exercise equipment littered in the extra room between her bed and the glass wall to the left of it. A folded up treadmill, a couple dumbbells and kettlebells, and a pull up bar screwed into the drywall right beside her bed. Between the door Eve came in and Villanelle’s bed is a nightstand with a lamp and a small metal industrial pipe with a view satin robes hanging from it.

Eve slides off her pants and into the fleece joggers Villanelle gave her, tying the waistband to fit her small frame.

The room is simple, yet still littered with small _Villanelle_ details. 

She unbuttons her shirt and unhooks her bra, glancing at the decor of the room. Fancy perfumes on the nightstand and the corner of the desk. Covers of _Villanelle_ framed and hung on the the wall with the door to her room. A small sofa under them with a sweater just thrown in a ball on it.

Eve lifts the white shirt Villanelle left out for her and can’t help but shake her head as she looks at how her fingers show through the thin fabric. There was no wondering why Villanelle grabbed this shirt. Before putting it on, Eve brings it up to her face and smells it, breathing in the crisp woodsy musk she’s come to associate with the Russian.

“Oh!” Villanelle exclaims behind Eve who never heard the door open. “You are not dressed yet.”

Eve hurries to slip the shirt over her head and fluffs her hair out from the neck. She turns as she speaks, “Yeah, I’m sorry. Snooped around a little bit.”

Villanelle glances down and smirks.

_Literally no reason to wonder why she picked this shirt_.

“Do I need to make you sign an NDA?” Villanelle asks, slowly pulling her eyes up to Eve’s face.

“Too late, already sent pictures of all of your next issues.”

“To who?” Villanelle plays along while walking towards Eve and then jumping on the bed, landing on her side and her elbow under her head. Lack of a pint of ice cream, probably not trusting Eve to ruin another good pint.

“You know… Dailymail and others,” Eve replies, climbing on the bed with Villanelle.

“Wow, Eveeee-” Her name ends in a yawn coming out of the other woman. Villanelle tossed an arm behind to grab a pillow before turning back and facing Eve, hugging the pillow to her chest. “One of us needs to get up and grab the remote. It’s on my desk.”

Eve rolls her and climbs back off the bed, fetching the remote to throw at the pillow against Villanelle’s chest. “You are a great host.”

* * *

While watching the movie, Villanelle handed the pillow over to Eve, opting to use Eve’s lap as a pillow instead. Somehow, Eve ended up with her hands combing through Villanelle’s hair. FIngertips gentle rubbing her scalp and then down to the nape of her neck before moving to behind her ears. 

“ _Mmm, Eve,_ ” Villanelle grumbles and rolls over, shoving her face against Eve’s stomach. Her arms wrap tight around Eve’s waist.

Eve looks down surprised, then realizes Villanelle had fallen asleep at some point. Also meaning, she talks in her sleep and is dreaming about Eve. A smile slides its way onto Eve’s face regardless of the fact that she was screwed into sleeping in an uncomfortable half sit. She reaches for the remote to stop the movie, and then lets it bounce towards the side of the bed before sliding her hands under the collar of Villanelle’s shirt to gently scratch the skin there. Her head falls back against the plush headboard, while allowing her eyes to drift shut. The soft snores from Villanelle like a lullaby to guide her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, on a lighter note, the club scene with Eve and Villanelle was definitely a montage in my head is set to When I R.I.P. by Labrinth which is totally random but also worked for my brain


	14. Professional

After waking up with her head under Eve’s chin, and Eve’s hands placed under her shirt, one on a shoulder blade and the other on the small of her back, Villanelle decided she needed to start being better behaved. 

It took a few moments to do, but she manages to slip out of Eve’s embrace without waking her up. Then she carries on with her morning routine, only breaking it the normal routine to stop and put the tapes and VCR in her closet on her way to get dressed. A simple white Frankie Shop muscle tee with strong shoulders matched with a Bottega Veneta oversized gourmette chain and a Bottega Veneta wide-legged coffee colored cargo pant. Also, to prove to herself she’s going to be more behaved, instead of putting almost half of the chocolate syrup bottle on her breakfast waffles, she only drizzles it on- then opens her mouth and squirts it directly in her mouth.

_Baby steps_.

Juggling her strawberry and banana smoothie, her waffles, and a cup of coffee, Villanelle slips back in the bedroom. Every item gets placed in a spot that perfectly fits it, showing that while her desk might seem disorganized, everything was positioned to work for her. She pulled her computer screen towards her, opening a notepad on the left and her email on the right. A single glance back at Eve in her bed, who’s rolled on to her side and looks much more comfortable than before, Villanelle starts working.

Except, mentallly work doesn’t last long. Maybe an hour a half of okayish work, but she can’t help but keep looking back at Eve sleeping peacefully in her bed. So after she finally gets up to wash all her dishes and returns, seeing Eve is still asleep, Villanelle grabs her 2-in-1 and turns her chair around to face the bed. She crawls in to it, crossing her legs, and opens a sketchbook app.

Eve wakes around eleven, almost two hours later. Villanelle’s turned back around and is working on the sketch of Eve on her desktop now, but she hears the shift in Eve’s breathing and knows she’s up. 

“What time is it?” Eve’s voice is rough with sleep still. Deeper than normal. Villanelle wants to hear it more often.

“A little after eleven. You snore in your sleep.”

“Yeah, well… you become a koala in yours,” Eve replies before groaning. A loud pop fills the morning silence.

Villanelle glances back in surprise.

Eve has her neck bent towards one side, then moves it to the next to get the same loud pop. 

“Are you okay?”

Eve laughs. “Besides falling asleep in the world’s worst position, yeah.”

“Please, never make that noise again.” Villanelle puts fake worry on her face. “Come here. I want to show you something.” She turns back around and zooms out on the drawing. Light pitter-patter nears her before a hand rests on top of her shoulder. Uncombed dark curls tickle her cheek on the opposite side. But that hand… Villanelle stared at Eve’s hand. It was such a simple touch, but so domestic. 

It wasn't flirtatious.

Or was it?

The way they danced last night… Villanelle chalked it up to a few drinks and the fact that many people are different under the moonlight then the morning light.

But this. This is intimate. 

In class, Anna would place her hand on Villanelle's shoulder and then look over her other shoulder. 

_Stay after class so we can talk about that question._

“Vill?” 

Oh, Eve was speaking.

“Sorry, zoned out.” Villanelle tore her eyes away from Eve’s hand. “Do you like it?”

Eve pauses for a second, then spoke like she hoped Villanelle didn’t catch the hesitation. “Yeah! It’s amazing.”

“But?” Villanelle filled in.

“You drew me while I was sleeping. That’s-”

“Too much?”

“No!” Eve sighs. “Not too much, just… I don’t know.”

“I could delete it if you like? You were just sleeping and it was hard for me to focus on my-”

“Villanelle, it’s fine. Seriously. It’s a good drawing. But you made me look… beautiful.”

Villanelle looks up at Eve, jaw slack. “You are beautiful, Eve. I’ve been to a lot of places, seen a lot of people, and Eve… to this day you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

“That’s not true. Just look at your girlfriend. She’s-”

Villanelle rose and turned around, head tilted. “Just the fast fashion version of you. Similar, but not the same quality. Not as nice. Not as exquisite.”

“Not as old,” Eve adds taking a step back from Villanelle.

_Well, Eve, things tend to taste better with-No, Villanelle, good behavior!_

“She’s naive. Artless. You… you are genteel. Elegant. A masterpiece, Eve. And a masterpiece is never finished until there is a life experienced behind it.” Villanelle’s fingers stretch and bend as she talks with her hands.

Eve stares at Villanelle, reading her like a lecture board in a college. Struggling to understand, but also filing the words in her mind. 

“Be on the cover of _Villanelle._ Let the world fall in love with Eve Polastri the-” _way I have_ , “-woman behind so many of England’s greats. I already have Adèle Haenel scheduled for June’s cover, but we could do July. Talk about what it means to be a therapist for the rich and famous and how fame and mental health go hand in hand. Talk a bit about your life, get you dressed not in the avant garde outfits all the other cover stars wear, but in what feels natural to you.”

“What if I want to be in avant garde?”

"Well, we could put- You are agreeing. You… yes?"

Eve nods, and shrugs. "What could go wrong?"

"Nothing. And you will be forever remembered." Villanelle walks towards the bedroom door, laptop in hand, and a bounce in her step. "Come, I'll show you to the bathroom then you can grab some clothes from my closet. Then we will head down to the office's closet. Look around."

* * *

Villanelle stole a roller chair from a desk and took it in the large closet full of dozens upon dozens of looks from vintage to things that came out in the future. Eve did have to end up signing a NDA, not that Villanelle didn't trust her, but this type of life can make anyone evil. Then she let Eve loose. Trying on clothes, drooling over dresses, suits, gowns, and jewelry. Diamonds that could have mortgage.

Villanelle used her knees to sway the chair as Eve undressed in front of her. Simple black bra and briefs. Not sexy underwear, not prudish, just underwear. Still, Villanelle appreciated the pieces anyways. Also appreciated Eve's trust to undress in front of her. Models did it all the time, but supermodels were not Eve Polastri.

Many had been in Villanelle’s bed. 

None had access to Villanelle’s mind though.

Not the way Eve did.

Eve understood Villanelle and saw the dark corners of her mind, yet she didn’t look at her with pity. Not once all more had Villanelle seen pity from Eve after last night. No, Eve looks at her still the same way she looks at her. With a look of-

“What are you thinking?” Eve appears in front of Villanelle, wearing a beautiful red flowing dress, looking a bit awkward with the bra she has on because of a slit in the front, made by a mock neck collar. A good choice on her part, but still… not the cover look. 

_Are you in love with me_?

Villanelle tilted her head, pulling her thumb she was chewing on away from her mouth. She rises and stands a foot away from Eve. 

Eve falters under her gaze, seemingly becoming insecure, which Villanelle just shook her head. “Don’t do that.”

Eve crosses her arms. 

Villanelle reaches up and gently pulled them back down. “Don’t do that,” she repeats.

“Say something then,” Eve all but shouts, the anticipation exploding.

“I want you to follow me.” Villanelle half turns, then turns back. “Bring the Calvin Klein jeans-the second pair-, the Row boots-the black ones with the zipper-, that Burberry blouse you tried on- the see-through one with the stripes-, and the pinstripe pants… Isabel Marant. Grab some accessories, I don’t care which. Stay in the dress.” As Eve picked up the clothes Villanelle told her to grab, surprised Villanelle was paying attention when she seemed she wasn’t, Villanelle writes on a new note on her screen, _Dark Room_ , on the top and then under it the pieces she told Eve to grab.

“Good?” Eve lifts her arm to gesture to the clothes and the two belts hanging on it, and then the few necklaces in her hand. 

“No.” Villanelle pulled her thumb ring off her grandmother gave her and handed it to Eve. “Put this on.”

Eve took the ring, reading it aloud. “The important thing is not what they think of me, but what I think of them."

"My grandmother gave it to me. She told me that people are always are going to have opinions about me. They are going to see me, and judge me without knowing who I really am, and that I will never be able to control that." Villanelle pauses, taking Eve's right hand and running her thumb over the ring Eve slid on her index finger. "I have never cared what anyone thought of me since then. Never. I always thought it was just another way my brain didn't work like other people's. Then I met you and I find I'm always wondering what you are thinking about me."

The pair smiled at each other while Villanelle dropped Eve's hand. When Eve opened her mouth to tell Villanelle what she thought of her, Villanelle shook her head. 

"I like wondering." Villanelle finally turned around. "Come now."

She lead Eve through the office, down a floor through an extra, unnecessary, white spiral staircase that was completely for aesthetic and her employees weren't supposed to use because of liability. She knew some of them used it anyways. Who wouldn't? There were a few people in the office, jumping at the fact that Villanelle was in the office. Offering apologies and explaining their presence at the office on a Sunday. 

Villanelle just laughed and told them to carry on, she was just running through some ideas.

She stopped in a supply closet of cameras, films, lights, and microphones to pick up a Nikon F3 and a roll of 35mm film before leading Eve to the black and white darkroom where low red safelights glowed.

"Take off your bra."

"Excuse me?" Eve asked as she closed the door behind her.

Villanelle flipped the switch so the sign outside the room would say **_NO ENTRY_**.

"Your bra does not go with that dress," Villanelle elaborates. "I want to take some pictures." She holds up the camera and gives Eve a look as if it was the most obvious thing. She puts down her tablet on a back counter, giving Eve some privacy. While waiting, she opened her tablet, sliding the brightness down to not blind herself but offer some more light to see as she loaded the film into the camera. It had been 5 or 6 issues since they've used film images, and they've definitely never had Villanelle taking the pictures for her own magazine. Pictures were taken outside or in the designated photography rooms. Eve required something new, something fresh.

"It's off," Eve calls out.

Villanelle closes the camera back and faces Eve.

Her skin glowed just like red tube lights, reflecting them. It made the dark red dress seem more blood colored and Eve seem more… poisonous. No longer sweet Eve of her namesake, but instead the temptation itself. Villanelle savoured the look, wetting her lips and then smirking with a low-chuckle under it. Of course someone named Eve would be so sinful.

"How's your balance?" Villanelle asked.

"I think it's good...why?" 

"Come." Villanelle waves her hand and leads Eve to the center counter. "I'm going to pick you up and set you up there. Take off your shoes." 

Eve is receptive to Villanelle in work mode. She kicks off her trainers then walks over, letting Villanelle grip her hips and help her up onto the counter. No windows, not a full office outside the room, the pair can hear each other's breathes while Eve stands over Villanelle on top of the counter, just looking down at her.

Simply looking.

Villanelle's neck has to be craned upward to look at Eve for once. Unable to use her height to dominate over her. Eve is powerful, and glorious. 

_Imago Dei._

There's a vulnerability in the moment where no words are spoken aloud, but an entire conversation is had.

Eve's risen to stand on the throne Villanelle's taken a lifetime to build for herself.

And Villanelle is going to let Eve take it.

"I'm- I… I'm going to take your picture now." Villanelle turned away from Eve to go grab the camera. There was no hiding any sounds in the darkroom.

Villanelle wishes she could lie and say she didn't hear the moment Eve climbed off the counter or the sound of her feet on the floor. Hears her stop right behind her, light feathery breathes.

Villanelle turns around, no camera in hand, and she doesn't bother to fake surprise. 

_Good behavior_.

So Villanelle doesn't initiate anything.

But it isn't Villanelle's place to initiate anything because the shift of power has already happened and this is Eve's domain now.

Eve cusps one hand on Villanelle's cheek and one on Villanelle's waist and just like in the Bible, it's Eve choice to begin the fall and it's Eve choice to share the temptation.

Nails.

Villanelle bit her fingernails when she felt the tight feeling she doesn't understand in her chest. She started doing it when she was young at her grandmother's and it would be time to go home. Babushka would smack her hand and scold her. Anna said it was a disgusting habit, but she never scolded Villanelle for doing it. Neither of them understood it but they both pointed it out to Villanelle.

Eve understood it and she never mentioned it. In therapy sessions, when Villanelle started biting her nails, Eve would change the subject. Since they started being friends, if Villanelle started biting her thumb while they were having lunch, Eve would smile to herself because it usually meant Eve was making Villanelle nervous. It's how Villanelle figured out that Eve _does_ like her.

But it's no wonder why what to do with her nails is the first thing that pops in her head when Eve kisses her because her chest has never been pulled so tight. Her heart's never pounded so hard. She wants to keep kissing Eve but the panic at not biting her thumb as a reaction is becoming too much.

Until Eve drops her hand from Villanelle's waist and grabs the exact hand Villanelle was itching to bite, and her lips turn just the smallest bit upward when Villanelle releases a sigh of relief.

There's something holy about the way Eve kisses her. Light pressure, Villanelle figures is because she is scared Villanelle will run, or maybe she's scared of herself. Oh, how something divine can be so lethal. 

Why is it called the Fall of Man when Villanelle would voluntarily get down on her knees like a saint to pray to Eve?

And when Eve guided Adam down the fallen path, did she pull away to ask-

"What do we do now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They weren't supposed to kiss this soon. Like deadass not supposed to kiss until like twentish chapters in. Eve being on the cover of Villanelle??? Never in my outline. The red dress? Not in my outline. My outline? Ruined. These dumbasses? Smooching. 
> 
> Also I'm not religious, literally only have been in a church once for a funeral, but can someone count the amount of religious references there is so far in this fic?  
> I enjoy religion as an objective thing if that makes sense? Like, there's this whole weird obsession I have with religion and the idea of deities. Don't even get me started on Greek gods and goddesses. So even though I believe in science and that like when we die that's it blah blah blah... The idea of these grand people fucking up interests me.
> 
> Also totally random questions, but how much do y'all like the wild west? 👀🤫


	15. The World Is Meant to Burn

"What do we do now?"

Eve had pulled away to ask the question because there were a million thoughts going through her brain, but she couldn't process a single one when she was kissing Villanelle. Now that there's a second to breathe the thoughts are crawling up from her stomach, pulling on her lungs, and clawing at her throat. 

She kissed Villanelle. 

Her client. 

Her client that is seeing someone. 

Her client that is seeing someone, and has issues with people taking advantage of her.

Yet, Villanelle giggles, pearly white teeth reflecting red lights. "I don't know. Just kiss me again." She pulled her hand away from Eve's, not to bite the nail of her thumb, but instead, placed it on top of Eve's hand. Her voice was smaller this time, "please just kiss me again." No laughter. Not quite nervous. Just begging to feel Eve's lips again.

"Okay." Eve agreed vocally because… she felt like she needed to. 

She also kisses Villanelle firmer this time, deciding in her head that this is happening and she can't run away from it while in the first kiss, she was ready to run.

Although, this is the kiss they'll call their first kiss.

It's much more them.

Villanelle allows Eve to control. She likes that Eve is in control. Her hand slides down to Eve's elbow, while her fingers on her other hand dance behind Eve's ear. 

They take a guided step forward, well, forward on Eve's part and backwards on Villanelle's, so that Villanelle is trapped against the counter and Eve. 

Eve's always expected that when her and Villanelle would kiss, it would be explosive and they would be ripping each other's clothes off. That they would be needy and it would be fast-paced, rough, and probably the most unromantic thing either of them did, because they wouldn't have time for romance.

Eve never imagined  _ this _ .

Just kissing, some nearing the edge of rough, but not at all fast-paced. Villanelle finally brings her other hand up to cusp Eve's jaw, or maybe to hold it in place so Eve doesn't run while they're taking a second to catch their breath. Eve wonders if Villanelle opens her eyes. If she stares at Eve until their lips reconnect again. 

Every now and then, one of them smiles and then the other, and while it does make it hard to kiss, it's nice knowing they’re wanted and that they can't contain their happiness in the moment to be kissing the other.

It's just as passionate as Eve imagined it, even if it's not in the we need to have sex right now kind of way. It's a calm, harmonious passion instead of the obsessive passion Eve assumed it would be. Maybe because her and Villanelle both know that their obsession runs deep enough that it's not suddenly going to burn out, that they can just stand here, just kissing, and it's not going to relieve their obsession, but instead just strike deeper. Instead, seal their fates to one another.

"Can we just stay in here all day?" Villanelle eventually asks during one of their pauses to just hold each other. She lets out a chuckle after the statement without Eve answering, sliding her hands forward to where her elbows are resting on Eve’s shoulders. “You are a very good kisser.”

The statement is rather blunt, and entirely Villanelle. 

While laughing, Eve finally opens her eyes, revealing what she wondered. Hazel eyes bore into her, carrying more emotion than just the smile on Villanelle’s lips. Her gaze is always almost too much for Eve, yet, this time Eve just stares back instead of faltering. Studies Villanelle’s eyes, trying to figure out why they terrified her so much. 

Then, as Villanelle’s eyes flicker to Eve’s lips for one moment, it clicks. 

What Eve is feeling from Villanelle’s gaze isn’t fear, but rather, she felt overwhelmed. She could see every single emotion she was experiencing reflected right back in those eyes, and then more emotions she couldn’t even place. The revealingness of Villanelle’s eyes being something Eve used in sessions to figure out whether Villanelle was joking or trying to change the subject. If she was getting angry or just trying to push Eve’s buttons. And when they’re out of therapy, knowing how much emotion those eyes held was all for Eve, it was overwhelming. It wasn’t that Villanelle didn’t feel, instead she felt entirely too much that it muddied all of the emotions into a blur.

For now, Eve decides to keep this revelation to herself. Something that makes Villanelle hers. It might be a small bit possessive but the idea of having something she thought about Villanelle just be hers made Villanelle feel more manageable in her brain that screams to her that Villanelle is chaos.

"Eve, I was just joking. We do not have to stay in here all day. It would get hot." Villanelle tilts her head and tries to pick Eve's mind the same way she pays Eve to do to hers. "What are you thinking about?"

Eve laughs and gives her second thought in her brain, the one she really hasn't even processed yet. "This is going to fucking suck to hide."

"This?" Villanelle inquires, a smile testing her face 

"I… this isn't a one time- Us- something. Villanelle stop smiling, I'm trying to-"

"Yes, we will have to hide  _ us _ . If you want there to be an us?" 

"My job. Your girlfriend. This is-"

"Unethical?"

"Yes." Eve sighs at the fact that Villanelle keeps finishing her sentences. She looks down at what she's wearing and just feels defeated. A year ago, Eve wore cheap fast-fashion clothes and would never even have lunch with a client let alone become their friend, then… mistress? A year ago, Eve wouldn't have left her husband.

A year ago, Eve didn't know Villanelle.

"I think that all depends on your ethical standards."

"Oh," Eve scoffed, "you're the expert on ethical standards because what? You stole a book from my office?"

A shy grin crawls on Villanelle's face. "Uh huh."

"So what do you know about ethics?"

"Egoism." Villanelle says it like it's the simplest thing in the world. Not morally corrupt or harmful or bad.

"Of course."

"I'm serious, Eve. People should act in their own self-interest. It actually benefits people more."

"Who does this benefit? You? No. Me? No. Not Nadia, or Niko, or my job or your job for that matter. The only thing that comes out of this-"

"Is us, Eve. An experience that we can never get again with any other person because only we know each other. Only I know that you have an interest in serial killers and secretly wish one of your patients was one. Only you know who Oksana is. Only I know that deep down you don't give a damn about any of your patients besides me. That you're only interested in the drama of their lives, not them as a person."

Eve opens her mouth to interrupt but it stopped.

"Don't try to lie to me, Eve. You might lie to yourself, but I know the truth because I know you better than you know yourself."

Eve can't help but think about how she's holding on to her love of Villanelle's eyes just because she wants to know things about Villanelle that Villanelle doesn't know. Eyes that are begging Eve to agree to try. Nothing more, nothing less, just try them. Try this.

_ Try us _ .

"We need to keep the boundaries up in therapy. No relationship talk in the office, no therapist talk out of the office." 

Villanelle grins and slides off of Eve. "I can do that. I am a very good listener." She throws in a wink at the end of the statement. “Now,” Villanelle clapped her hands together, “come be my muse.”

Eve followed Villanelle over to the counter and let her help her up again and once again, Eve is above Villanelle. The air around them doesn’t change like it did the first time, but Villanelle looks at Eve like the first time. Her eyes are full of trust, admiration, and…

No, it’s not that.

Eve asked Villanelle,  _ are you in love with me? _

Villanelle answered innocently enough, she didn’t think she was in love with her therapist, but if she got to know the person behind the therapist, that she would probably fall in love with her.

Then Eve went ahead and let Villanelle get to know her after knowing that information. Went ahead and started…  _ this _ . 

“Look at the camera. Not me,” Villanelle snapped, but her lips were turned upwards. “Keep this professional, Dr. Polastri.” Then she fired off commands. 

* * *

After taking the photos, Villanelle gave Eve a chaste kiss realizing she was running late to a meeting with Hugo. She told Eve to feel free to go to her flat to grab her bag and clothes and even gave her the key to get it.

Now, call Eve traditional, but typically when you gave someone the key to your flat it was further into the relationship. Not a few kisses and a blooming affair. But it wasn't a key, it was just Villanelle's extra key that she would return to Villanelle the next time she saw her.

Which wasn't until Monday morning when they arrived at the office at the exact same time. It had been a complete coincidence and wordlessly, they took turns checking in at the front desk. Eve waited on the elevator for Villanelle using the time to blatantly check her out. A canvas backpack hung loosely over her shoulder probably holding a laptop, some sort of drink, maybe even a snack-most likely a snack, it is Villanelle. The tan cotton of the Burberry trench is the same color as her sweater over the white collared shirt. A printed silk tie, white with blue palm trees, is tucked underneath the sweater.

Villanelle adjusted her tie knot, half Windsor, as she stepped on to the elevator and turned so her and Eve were shoulder to shoulder.

"Running late?" Villanelle inquired.

Slowly...the elevator doors neared shut.

"Yes, woke up late." Eve refused to look at the woman she hasn't seen since the darkroom yesterday.

"Highly unprofessional, Dr. Polastri," Villanelle chastised.

With the click, Villanelle's hands on her tie are replaced by Eve's. Eve pulled it partially out from under her sweater with how hard she tugged Villanelle's obnoxious, _highly unprofessional_ , face down to Eve's _highly unprofessional_ face so Eve could kiss that _highly_ _unprofessional_ smirk off her face.

Except just kissing described something gentle mixed with want. This was rough and filled with need, instead of want. The need for something they unfinished yesterday. Eve bit Villanelle's lip to get her to gasp then used the chance to slide her tongue into her mouth. Villanelle's hands untucked Eve's shirt and slid up and under, cusping Eve's bra cladded breasts. 

Villanelle breathes out a laugh at the way Eve's hip grind against her before sliding one hand out from her shirt to bring it up to Eve's neck, pressing her against the back wall of the elevator. Fingers dug into the nape of Eve's neck. 

_ Oh god. _

The thought flashes through Eve's mind.

_ My client is choking me and I don't want her to stop. _

A small tight moan slipped out and it's Villanelle's mission to hear that noise again and again and  _ again _ .

Villanelle vaguely realizes she is choking her therapist on their way to her office to talk about Villanelle's violent tendencies, but to be fair, her therapist seems to be enjoying these violent tendencies.

There's a small amount of pain radiating from Villanelle's hips where Eve's fingernails have dug in through her shirt. Villanelle pulled away and stared at Eve's tightly shut eyes and reddened face. Mouth parted, begging for air.

"Open your eyes."

Eve refused. 

Villanelle leant in and nipped at the edge of Eve's jaw. "Look at me if you want to breathe." She leaned back, her spare hand trailing down and slowly tapping against Eve's belt.

When Eve opened her eyes, Villanelle can't contain the wolfish grin as she loosened her hand just enough for Eve to take a small breath. "Seems someone is a little too interested in their clients violent habits, huh? Thought there was a no kissing at work rule?"

When Villanelle kissed Eve this time, it's gentler, more like yesterday. Showing Eve, she can have both with Villanelle. 

She can have  _ everything _ with Villanelle.

Then as quickly as it started, the elevator dings and they quickly return to their shoulder to shoulder position. Eve fixed her shirt and rubbed out the tightness in her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Eve spotted Villanelle fixing that damn tie again as the elevator opened on the fourth floor. Carolyn Martens stepped on the elevator with Eve and Villanelle.

"Good morning, ladies," Carolyn greeted, "Heading up?"

"Yes," Villanelle said before Eve can speak and her voice  _ will _ crack. "It seems Eve was running a bit late.  _ Unprofessional. _ " She side-eyed Eve to watch her bite her lip to prevent an annoyed smile.

"My phone died in the middle of the night, so my alarm didn’t go off," Eve explained then jutted an elbow into Villanelle's rib.

Villanelle's jaw dropped before she mouthed,  _ violent much? _

Eve just let a laugh out of her nose and shook her head. 

“Well, I apologize for Eve’s unprofessionalism Villanelle, but with that smudged lipstick you don’t look very professional either.” Carolyn wasn’t looking at Villanelle to see her mouth drop open, and Eve couldn’t see her face but she could hear the smile on her lips.

“It’s the new look,” Villanelle replied. Always ready with a come-back. “A whole article about it in my magazine. Which I noticed is lacking from your waiting room.”

"Yes, well, a fashion magazine could be considered triggering to some people coming here."

Eve rolled her eyes because frankly, she remembers the _ Villanelle  _ magazine being kept in the waiting room until Villanelle started coming here. 

The elevator stopped and the door opened. Carolyn spoke once more before stepping off to leave Eve and Villanelle alone. “Eve, I would like to see you later today when you have a chance.”

Eve and Villanelle stand in silence as they go up one more floor. Did Carolyn know? Know what though? Yes, Villanelle and Eve had kissed twice...three… well, a few times now, but they weren’t anything. Were they? They have been having things that could qualify as dates. But Villanelle has a girlfriend and Eve is in the process of a divorce. So does that mean Eve is having an affair? Is Villanelle? They-

“Eve, stop thinking so loud,” Villanelle interrupted her thoughts. “Carolyn is going to ask you if we are fucking. You say no. Then she will say okay.”

“Do you and Carolyn know each other?” Eve asked, following Villanelle out of the elevator.

“Somewhat. That’s why she recommended me to you. Her and Konstantin go back.”

“Go back?” Eve wondered if that meant they were having sex. 

“They’ve known each other for a long time?” Villanelle said it as a question, withholding information from Eve, because information is worth more than anything in the world.

Yet, it all but confirms Eve’s assumption. She stepped into her office under Villanelle's arm and prays that Villanelle has some self-control because Eve has none.

But… innocently enough, Villanelle stepped around Eve, dropping her coat and bag on the sofa, and went to sit in the armchair in front Eve's desk. Not dropping the suaveness, but also not doing anything that screams,  _ Eve, come sit on my lap and let me fuck you _ .

Although… everything Villanelle does screams that.

Eve shook her head to knock out any sexual thoughts and reminded herself that for the next hour Villanelle is just a client.

Just a client that Eve is going to begin seeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay..........I'm back, y'all. I'm not going to lie. I have like four different versions of this chapter written. One was angsty one was happy, one was sexy, and then there's this one which I would say is a combination of happy and sexy? I don't know. I had a major case of, I can write a shitton of words but I'm not happy with any of them. I just did not like how it was coming out. Plus, I was like I need to step back and rework the outline, and then I got really sick... like, yes it was probably *that* but I couldn't get tested because I'm not one of the important people to get tested, so the COVID-19 hotline was basically like... just chill alone until you don't have a fever? And it was wild. One of the days I litterally didn't move but like 200 steps the entire day? and the whole day was just really fucking weird? Like I half ass thought I was dead because I just didn't feel alive, like my brain was fried. But I'm all better now so yay me. So then that brings us to the beginning of april and me still trying to write and still not liking how it's working? But idk, I'm content where the chapter is at now and I know how I can go forward so...  
> OH also I got addicted to animal crossing and played through Resident Evil 3 so that was part of the delay too...  
> If y'all are ever curious where I am or what's going on with me feel free to follow me on twitter over @JClawesome where I never shut the fuck up and when it's been a month since I updated y'all can start yelling at me. So yeah. I'm back.


	16. Sex Appointments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual TW, small conversation about childhood sexual abuse but doesn't really go into any detail at all because if you read this far you know what happened and I really don't feel it's necessary to go in detail about it anymore

Villanelle adored when Eve wore her glasses on Monday mornings. It was as if that dictated Villanelle’s week was going to be good or not. The way they would slowly slide down Eve’s nose and Eve would always go for the right side to push them back up. Always while changing from looking at her notes to looking at Villanelle. Like she wanted to see Villanelle in clarity. 

Villanelle just loved it.

Except… sometimes when their conversations were getting very serious, she would set down her notepad and then the glasses would be folded up and placed on top of the notepad.

So Villanelle can’t help but frown as that happens now. Her legs are hanging over the arm of sofa while she lays flat on the cushions, staring at Eve. 

She pulled her chewed thumbnail away from her mouth.

“What is it?” Villanelle asked after Eve sat back up.

“We need to talk about it."

“It?” Villanelle asked. There were a lot of it’s. Nadia was an it. Their relationship was an it. The fact that they keep making out, but haven’t had sex yet was an it.

Don't get Villanelle wrong. She loved kissing Eve. In the elevator, in bathrooms of cafés, in one of the dressing rooms of her between photos, and actually once in the middle of the night in a bathtub, one used for prop, but that was a long story. 

Okay, it really wasn't. Villanelle wanted night lighting and so she forced Eve to come to one of the studios at 3 in the morning. Put Eve in a simple outfit really, a black RtA belted playsuit, but the outfit combined with Eve's legs and arms hanging over the side of the empty clawfoot bathtub screamed dominance and, next thing Villanelle knew, she just happened to have Eve's legs wrapped around her waist and dry-humping her in a goddamn prop tub like some horny teenager.

Which, it wasn't that Villanelle didn't like kissing Eve or feeling the woman's hips thrust into her, it was that it'd been two weeks of kissing Eve and she wanted more. She wanted to touch Eve. Feel Eve. Wanted Eve to feel her. Have Eve know how wet she made Villanelle. Wanted Eve's fingers so d-

"Villanelle, are you listening to me?"

Villanelle sat straight up, driving her ribs into her kneecaps and swallowed the small amount of pain. "Yes. I am."

Eve scoffed and rolled her eyes. "The last two weeks you've been purposely wasting time in our sessions…"

"Purposely wasting time? I am talking about serious issues, Eve," Villanelle defended herself. Her annoying trainer was a very important issue. She spun on the sofa, planting her feet on the ground and spreading her legs wide. She picked up the notepad, gently sliding the glasses off onto the table, and read the front page. Humor and Eve dropped from her mind, filled with anger and another emotion that could be described as a very uncomfortable crawling itch. "You want to talk about the tapes?"

Silence filled the room for a few moments as Villanelle waited for Eve's answer.

"Is this why you won't have sex with me? You think I'm broken?" Villanelle asked, waving the notepad.

"Vill-"

"I'm allowed to bring up sex if you're bringing up something I have not brought up during our sessions. You break a rule, I get to break a rule."

"Would you have told me about them? Here?" Eve added the last part as an afterthought. She held her hand out to receive the notepad back.

"Yes," Villanelle admitted. "I was planning on telling you the next session, but…"

"There was a change of plans," Eve finished. 

Villanelle handed Eve the notepad back with a sigh then asked, "is it why?"

"No. I'm not having sex with you while you're fucking someone else."

Villanelle smiled. "Does it count if I'm calling her your name about half the time?"

"Yes, it does count." Eve tapped her index finger against the notepad. "Now, back to therapy. The first part of  _ this _ ."

_ This's and it's. _

That's what their relationship was. Villanelle understood for now that’s all  _ this  _ was but it didn't mean that it didn't suck.

"Eve, what do you want me to say? I already told you how I feel about them.”

“Do you regularly watch them?”

“Define regularly.”

“More than 6 times a year.”

Villanelle counted in her head, moving her head from one side to the other with each number. “No.”

“When was the last time?”

“Right before I started seeing you.”

“And why now?”

“Big movie.” Villanelle gave a dry laugh and straightened up. “I do not know if this is something I should include in Hugo’s movie. It is a movie so not everything has to be perfectly true unlike if it was a documentary but…”

“But you don’t know if you want to see your childhood be made something it’s not?” Eve guessed.

“Exactly. But I know the board will accuse me of making it up for the movie. Might even fire me.”

“Can they do that? You own 50% of the company.”

“Actually me and Konstantin only own around 40% of the company each. Neither of us have a majority,” Villanelle corrected then added, “And they can because I’m editor in chief of  _ Villanelle _ . They can take that away from me and under my contract, if I am not working for Vasiliev & Vasiliev I lose my ownership.”

“How did you get under such a shitty contract?”

“The investors and Konstantin required it after my psychopathy diagnosis got leaked to the press. I am considered,” Villanelle raised her hands for air quotes, “‘high-risk.’”

Eve stood up and walked over to her desk. Filed through papers and typed away on her computer. Villanelle remained seated, just watching as Eve got up to something. There was something about the way Eve could get an idea and suddenly turn off the entire world around her that intrigued Villanelle. 

“What if I proved you aren’t a psychopath?” she abruptly said.

Villanelle considered it for a second. She didn't know if Eve could manage it, but it would help.

“It would make the contract void. But it would be almost impossible to do. Plus, it wouldn’t change the fact that the board will still fire me for tarnishing my father’s name and the name of the company.”

“What if you changed the name of the company?”

Villanelle shook her head and stood up. Her hands found their place in the front pocket of her jeans, making her shoulders come up by the bottoms of her ears. “Eve, I do not own the majority of the company.”

Eve fell back in her chair with a sigh. “If Konstantin knew and agreed to do a press conference, that would be the majority? You two could discuss the name change and then you could tell people who your father was.”

“You are assuming that I want to tell Konstantin about who his brother really was. Or that Konstantin would even choose me over his brother.” Villanelle made her way over to Eve and rested her foot on Eve’s desk, stretching out the back of her other leg. Her hands found rest on her bent knee. 

“Is that why you haven’t told him? You think he is going to choose a- his brother” Eve bit her lip to prevent from being unprofessional. Her face scrunched up for a second before going back to the therapist calmness, “over you?”

“Everyone chooses other people over me, Eve. They think, ‘Villanelle’s tough, she can handle it,’ or ‘Villanelle has no emotions so it won’t even affect her.’” Villanelle looks towards the window, feeling her eyes water up and hating that she can’t stop it. “It sucks, Eve. To know that everyone will choose other people over you. To constantly see yourself be convenient for people when they need you but they don’t care any other time... It doesn’t matter if someone is a psychopath or not. That doesn’t make you feel good. I know the world is meant to burn because of people like me, but what if I don’t want it to burn?” Villanelle didn’t look at Eve, instead opting to run her fingers along the edge of the case of flowers she bought Eve.

“Villanelle,” Eve called out to get Villanelle to look at her again. Face full of tenderness. “Everyone?”

The comment managed to make Villanelle smile a small bit, even if her cheeks are wet. 

Eve smiled in return and drummed her fingers on the desk, lost in thought. “What if you told him here?”

“With you?”

“Yeah. I can monitor the situation. He’ll be more likely to listen, everyone is when there’s an added pressure of having the  _ right _ response. And if he does respond like you think he might, I can talk to him about it.”

Villanelle nodded. “Okay. Do you want to do it today or-”

“Today works if he can come in on such short notice.” 

Pulling her foot off of Eve's desk, Villanelle slipped her phone from her back pocket and dialed Konstantin.

"And Villanelle?"

"Hello?" Konstantin answered.

Villanelle raised an eyebrow for Eve to continue, all the while replying to Konstantin. "Are you busy right now?"

"I am dropping Irina off at school, what do you need?"

Eve took a deep breath before speaking. "If I can prove you aren't a psychopath, you wouldn't need therapy anymore, correct?"

Villanelle nodded in response to Eve then spoke. "I was wondering if you could stop by Carolyn's office. My therapist wants to talk to you."

"What did you do?" Konstantin accused.

"Nothing." 

Eve stopped speaking, seeming to want to wait until Villanelle could be completely involved in the conversation.

"I will be there in a little bit. I swear-"

"Konstantin, I really didn't do anything wrong."

"That's what you say. Will Polastri tell me something else?"

"No." Villanelle clicked off her phone and put it away. "He is on his way. What were you saying?"

Eve was leaning back in her seat now, studying Villanelle. "Would you stop going to therapy if I proved you to not be a psychopath?"

"Probably. No offense, but there's things I'd much rather be doing with you than talking about all the reasons I'm not normal."

"Things we could be doing if I wasn't your therapist?" Eve asked, a slight smug smirk written on her face.

It takes a second, but Villanelle catches up. "Oh. You wouldn't be my therapist anymore."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Which means you wouldn't lose your job if we were together."

Eve shrugged. "I wouldn't but my reputation would go in the trash for being with an ex-client."

Villanelle tilted her head. "You would be willing to do that for me?"

"Are you willing to go public with going from someone like Nadia to an old woman like me?"

Laughter erupted from Villanelle until she realized Eve was being serious. "Eve, you aren't old."

"I'm close to twice your age. Plus it won't be hard for tabloids to figure out that we were together before you broke up with Nadia. Nadia tells them you were calling her Eve while… being intimate. This could tank your reputation just as much as mine." 

“I can take care of Nadia. Make sure she doesn’t say anything incriminating. But…” Villanelle bit her lip with a fake smile plastered under it.

“What?”

“The three of us should probably spend some time together. Make the media see that I wasn’t trying to keep you two separate.”

Eve launched to her feet and swung her hands. “No. No! No… Villanelle, no. I am not… No!”

Villanelle walked around the desk to try to grab Eve’s hands.

Eve yanked them away from her. “I am not introducing myself to someone that you fuck using my name!”

“Then I will introduce you.”

Thank god glares could not kill because the glare that earned. 

“Okay, I will not introduce you. There is one other thing I can do… but it will be very naughty.”

“Legal?”

“Probably not.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Is that permission?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, therefore I am not telling you what you can and cannot do.” 

This time Eve let Villanelle come close, hands wrapping around Eve’s and completely enveloping hers. Her thumb brushed against where Eve used to wear her wedding ring. 

“How’s your divorce going?”

“We can talk about that later. It’s not-”

“We’re just waiting on Konstantin to get here. We can take a break from therapy.”

“No. We set-” Eve is interrupted by Villanelle pressing her lips against hers. She dropped Eve’s hand to cusp Eve’s face. A short, comforting kiss that leaves them with their foreheads together. “Up rules,’ Eve finished.

“I know, but I can see you are on edge, too.” Villanelle brushed her thumb along Eve’s cheek. “I am very good at helping people relieve some tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.” Villanelle popped the p. “All you need to do is sit down. Let me get down between those  _ amazing _ thighs. Pull down these wonderfully tailored trousers, dragging my nails against your skin. Bite the inside of your thighs, then kiss the marks as an apology. Press my lips against underwear that I am already sure is soaked, right, Eve?” Villanelle didn’t wait for the answer before continuing, because Eve’s darkening pupils was an answer in of itself. “I wouldn’t go under them, not until you begged for it. Begged for me to help you  _ relax _ .”

Eve’s eyes fluttered shut and her throat bobbed as she swallowed deeply. Villanelle knew they weren’t going to have sex, espcially in her office at 8:30 in the morning. But this was the next best thing. Knowing she was making Eve’s stomach tight and her underwear ruined. 

This moment right here might be a game to Villanelle, but all of this, everything with Eve definitely wasn’t.

“Please, keep talking,” Eve finally spoke, voice thick and heavy with arousal.

Villanelle chuckled. “You want to hear the things I think about doing?”

“God… yes." Her eyes still pressed shut, unable to see the childish smile climb on Villanelle's face.

"Where do I begin?" Villanelle moved her head back from Eve's and her hand to the end of Eve's curls. She couldn't help her growing grin when Eve opened her eyes. "I think about cooking dinner for you. Holding your hand. Falling asleep with my head in your lap. I think about watching more movies with you. Apologizing after having a fight. I think about doing normal things with you, Eve."

A pinkish tint filled Eve's cheeks as she failed to hide a smile, shaking her head. "You're such a little shit."

"You don't like those things?" Villanelle asked before pressing her lips to Eve's forehead and slipping back to the patient side of the desk.

"They sound fantastic," Eve admitted after returning to her seat across the desk. "Just not what I was expecting." 

Villanelle pressed her elbow into the desk and rested her chin on her fist. "And what were you expecting, Doctor Polastri?"

"Anything but you."

Villanelle’s lips split into the largest grin yet, baring all white teeth, and wrinkles formed around the corners of her eyes.

* * *

Their session ran over as they waited for Konstantin. Eve got up at one point to send a few emails out, moving her appointments to the afternoon, but other than that, she allowed Villanelle to do and say as she wanted. Conversation flowed from one topic to another, opening up about the trauma allowed Villanelle to be more open about her childhood in general.

“I killed dogs. Three,” Villanelle stated. Her right leg is crossed on left and she has her hands clasped over her knee, poking through a ripped hole in her jeans. She looked the definition of class, like a luxury model, and yet, just admitted to killing dogs. “I was young, six or seven. The first was our own. It was barking and I locked it in the deep freezer. I told my parents,” she whipped up a child persona, “‘Mama, Papa, I didn’t  _ know _ that Dmitry couldn’t breathe.’ They believed me for the most part... until two of their friends that had kids my age found their dogs in similar situations.”

Eve stared at her in silence. “So… I shouldn’t bring a therapy dog in?”

Villanelle blinked slowly, then snorted with laughter. “That is a terrible joke, Eve. I love it.”

“Thanks, I’m here all week.” Eve reached up to pull her hair up.

“Leave it down,” Villanelle interrupted with alarm.

Eve froze, one hand wrapped around her and the other ready to pull it through the hair tie. After a pause, she dropped her hand and let her hair fall. “So do you still want to kill dogs?”

“Yes, when they are annoying. There are plenty of things I want to do and think about doing. I just know my life is easier if I don’t do them.”

“Like?” Eve asked, 100% in therapy mode and not at all picking up on the innuendo.

Villanelle grinned.

_ Fuck you against that window over there. _

__ _ Wrap my hand around your neck and strangle you. _

_ Both of those at the same time until your nails are digging into my wrist trying to breathe yet you’re still coming. _

“You have thoughts you don’t act on too, Eve,” Villanelle put simply.

Before Eve could respond, knocking sounds on the office door.

“Saved by the bell.” Villanelle smirked and stood to let Konstantin in.

“What did you do?” Konstantin questioned as he came in. “Listen,” turning to Eve, “I’ll give you money as an apology for whatever she did.” 

“Good morning to you too, Konstantin. Villanelle hasn’t done anything wrong, there’s just something she wanted to tell you and felt more comfortable telling you here,” Eve laid the therapist-voice on thick.

It makes Villanelle realize how relaxed Eve was with her. This person would never make jokes about Villanelle killing dogs. It also makes Villanelle realize how extremely turned on that tone of voice makes her.

“Did you go to Russia again?” Konstantin turned to Villanelle who was still staring at Eve, mouth slightly ajar.

“Konstantin, please have a seat and she’ll explain,” Eve interrupted, holding a hand out to the white arm chair beside her. She flashed a look of confusion to Villanelle at her sudden stillness.

With surprise at being told what to do, Konstantin finally relented and sat down. 

Villanelle slowly took a seat too. Perched on the arm of the chair beside Eve, her thumb finds its way between her lips. The nail snapped under her front teeth. She watched with interest as Eve pulled her hair up and picked her glasses up off the coffee table. When she got done getting prepared, that's how Villanelle put it in her mind, Eve seemed surprised to see Villanelle staring at her.

Then Eve gave a supportive smile and said, "Go ahead, Villanelle."

Which she did. 

A few times. 

The first time it came out very choppy and Eve jumped in and explained some things. Gave a reasoning to the separation of Oksana and Villanelle. Or when Villanelle would trail off and get stuck, she would take over with a light squeeze on Villanelle's knee and explain what Villanelle was trying to say.

Konstantin stayed silent the whole time, playing with the braided bracelet Irina made him. 

"I'm only going public with it if you agree to change the name of the company," Villanelle stated at the end of everything. “If you-”

“Of course. We will remove his name from everything,” Konstantin interrupted. “I…” he finally looked up from his bracelet at Villanelle.

To say the least, Villanelle was surprised to see his wait face. He wiped at the tears with his hand. 

“Villanelle, I am sorry. I did not know.”

Villanelle leaned back and glanced down at Eve. “I know that. That is why I am telling you.”

Konstantin stood up and took a step towards Villanelle. 

“What are you doing?” Villanelle asked but felt Eve’s hand on her lower back pressing her forward off the arm of the chair.

When her feet hit the ground, Konstantin wrapped his arms around Villanelle. Her body tensed up with confusion. What was he doing? His large hand cusped her shoulder and the other gently pressed against the back of her head as she lowered it on his shoulder.

They were hugging.

This was just a hug.

Just comfort.

Not Villanelle being told she’s strong, or able to handle it because she’s Villanelle, but instead a moment of someone allowing her to feel while they choose her over someone else.

And feel.

And feel.

And feel.

Feel something Villanelle never has been allowed to do before.

Feel something that convinces Villanelle that maybe Eve is right, that she isn’t a psychopath.

Feel something that makes Villanelle feel like she is good enough for Eve. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LooK I didn't disappear for a month again!!! So proud of myself, even if I am now addicted to the FF7 Remake alongside animal crossing. So beyond happy to see you all still loved the fic even after a month away! Loved all of the comments and seeing your guy's favorite parts of the chapter. I might bitch about the killing eve fandom a lot but I really do love y'all so much. feel free to follow me on twitter over @JClawesome so you can see how chaotic I am and realize I am not as talented as y'all make me out to be and instead im just a fucking crackhead


	17. Ragnarok

Konstantin left a little before Villanelle after a conversation about when they will meet with the board and hugging her again.

Something deep inside Eve cracked as she saw how Villanelle didn't understand the hug from him at first. But whatever the crack was, broke when Villanelle's whole body untensed with relief and gratitude. If it wasn't for there session already running over, Eve might have brought up her question from a few weeks earlier. Asked again if Konstantin had ever hurt Villanelle. 

From the few times she's met Konstantin she could tell her cared about Villanelle, but also could tell that Villanelle knew exactly how to get under his skin. He seemed the type that could only handle so much.

But she wasn't about to ruin a moment that Villanelle finally gets to see that people do care about her. So she allowed them to have their moment until he left and Villanelle just stayed by the door with her head down.

"What are you thinking?" Eve asked.

“About you,” Villanelle spoke quietly. “Do you really think you can prove I am not a psychopath?”

_Honestly?_

_No._

“Villanelle, if that’s what you want. Of course I can." Then she just had to add on the last part. "It won't even be hard."

Villanelle looked up from the door handle at Eve. "You don't believe that."

"Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Villanelle went over to pick up her coat and bag. She spoke as she slid her arms into the trenchcoat. “Thank you for today Eve. I did not think Konstantin would be so…”

“So?”

"Receptive?" Villanelle posed it as a question. "He hugged me."

"Does he not do that?" Eve asked.

“No.” Villanelle walked over and pressed a kiss to Eve’s cheek. “Will I see you later?”

“We aren’t having sex.”

Villanelle dramatically sighed. “You hate me.”

Eve walked her to the door, “Yes, I just hate you so much. Obviously.” As she started to open the door, Villanelle pushed it shut, trapping Eve between her and the wall next to the door.

“I want to have dinner at your place. Tomorrow. I will send you a list of groceries to buy,” Villanelle said it with such authority that Eve had no choice but to just nod. “Good. Okay. I am leaving now.”

Villanelle didn’t move her hand from holding the door shut.

Eve didn’t move out from being trapped by her.

There was something between them that they never wanted to leave each other’s company. That they’d be content just always being in the same room with the other. Maybe a fear that the other one will stop existing if they can’t keep an eye on the other. 

“I am leaving,” Villanelle repeated.

“Okay.”

“Now.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow to see you again.”

Of course a smile crawled onto Eve’s face followed by a blush. “It’s one day.”

“Actually, _Eveeee_ , it’s almost 30 hours from now. That’s more than a day.”

“I think you can handle it.”

Villanelle went silent, eyes trained on Eve’s lips. “If I am single by tomorrow night can we have sex?”

“You are making sex sound like an appointment.”

“Can I schedule sex appointments?” Villanelle squealed, eyes lighting up. “I would like 5 now.”

This finally managed to make Eve slide out from under Villanelle’s arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Villanelle.”

“Fine,” Villanelle pouted and pulled open the door. “I will just go home and masturbate about you.”

The door shut behind her and Eve’s head fell back as that image filled her mind. Of course Villanelle would always worm her way inside Eve's brain before she left her alone. Like some sort of parasite that woman.

Eve chuckled and shook her head at that comparison and the image of a little Villanelle on her shoulder constantly flicking her cheek that replaced tall, dominant Villanelle that says things like-

Nope, not going down that path again. 

Not when there was more important things to take care.

* * *

“So you want me to release information about a client that I had to ask you last week if you were having sex with?” Carolyn looked at Eve from over the tops of her glasses with condesendence. A metronome ticked back and forth on the corner of her desk next to a picture of Kenny that was more there so Carolyn looked inviting rather than her wanting to see her son everyday. 

Eve asked Carolyn for the therapist that gave Villanelle her original diagnosis. She knew it was probably somewhere in Villanelle's file or Konstantin would know and since her and Konstantin seem to be in bed together maybe she could find out. Then Eve could go talk to therapist. Find out why they wrote Villanelle off with a psychopathy diagnosis instead of just a personality disorder.

“I don’t think she is a psychopath,” Eve defended herself. “And we honestly just happened to walk in together.”

“Eve, I am not stupid. I think you know that very well now.”

“I haven’t had sex with her.”

“No, but you want to.” Carolyn smiled, something that always made Eve's hand twitch into a fist, and pulled her hands out from under her chin. “You want me to give you the name of who diagnosed her as a psychopath so you can go do god know’s what, but end up getting him to take his statement back about her being psychopath. That would terminate Oksana’s contract and so she would stop going to therapy and then you can have all the sex you want.”

_Her name's not Oksana._

Eve’s mouth dropped the slightest amount. “I…” How does Carolyn manage to do that? Constantly know everything that’s going on. Eve drug her hand through her curls. “How do you know about Villanelle’s contract?”

That earned Eve a confused look as if the answer was obvious.

“I’m on the board of directors for Vasiliev & Vasiliev. Frankly, I thought you would have put that together by now with just a little research. I made you take Oksana’s case because I thought you would be the only person crazy enough to want to get rid of that pesky psychopath diagnosis”

This was all planned? From the very beginning?

The therapy sessions and the helping and caring and- Everything was for what? So Carolyn and Konstantin could stop baby sitting Villanelle by using Eve to get rid of her diagnosis?

Eve’s been trying so hard to be so goddamn ethical and follow rules for Villanelle because she cared about her and-

“Why do _you_ want to get rid of her diagnosis?” Eve questioned. There was more angry than necessary but Carolyn insists on calling Villanelle 'Oksana'.

“No company wants one of their owners to be labeled as a psychopath, Eve. It’s not good for business because many people refuse to meet with Oksana. Most likely afraid of their idea of psychopathy.”

_Stop fucking calling her Oksana._

“For business,” Eve scoffed. “Everything’s about money with you isn’t? That’s why you only let us take clients that are millionaires and- God, we all know you’ve used what clients have told you to do insider trading.”

“And yet, you still work for me.”

“Fuck you, Carolyn.” Eve rolled her eyes, turning around. She tried to bite her tongue, hold back the words, but she ended up shaking her head and turning back around. “I’ll prove Villanelle isn’t a psychopath and then I’m done working for you.”

Carolyn nods. This was something she expected. “Something we can both agree on.” She switches to her computer, but continues speaking, “I will have your secretary have your clients switched to other therapists and you can start cleaning out your office because I’m sure you will tell Oksana ab-”

“Her name’s Villanelle,” Eve spat out through gritted teeth. “Villanelle.”

“Okay…" Carolyn's brow shot up, "as I was saying, I’m sure you will tell Villanelle about our conversation so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when she comes in next Monday to see your office mostly empty… The person who diagnosed Villanelle is Martin Akhtar. He runs a small private practice and is a psychology teacher at Oxford.”

“Thanks.” Eve said drying before she left Carolyn’s office, slamming the door on her way out.

* * *

That anger just continued to bubble and bubble. Like a volcano before eruption.

Like a dog ready to bite.

Like...like someone that was just really fucking angry.

She was so angry that she didn't even have the mind to think of things to compare how angry she was to.

Eve’s so fucking sick of following rules and her and Villanelle trying to keep some sort of ‘good’ boundaries up when they were both played like puppeteers. Eve was never meant to help Villanelle, Konstantin and Carolyn knew she would be susceptible to Villanelle’s charm.

If anything, they wanted her to get too close to Villanelle. They wanted her to fuck up her job for her.

Konstantin used Anna, found someone similar to Anna, and told Carolyn to make that Villanelle's therapist.

Carolyn used Eve's love a challenge. Her intrigue for psychopaths that stemmed back from Eve's MI5 days and knew Eve would be so captured by someone like Villanelle.

So fuck trying to be the good ethical therapist when this was all just a scheme developed with out the partakers knowledge.

Eve stepped off the second to top floor and made her way towards Villanelle’s secretary she’s come to learn name is Amber Peel even if Villanelle can’t seem to remember it.

“Is Villanelle busy right now?”

“Her and Hugo are working on-”

Hearing the name Hugo gave Eve the green light to go ahead and walk into Villanelle’s office. 

Villanelle was sitting behind her desk, pen hanging out of her mouth, holding a thick stack of papers, while a man, Eve assumed Hugo, sat across from her in a similar postion. She had pulled her hair back into a high ponytail since their session and also slipped on a houndstooth blazer. 

Neither of them noticed her precense until the door fell closed behind her.

Villanelle looked up and the moment she made eye contact with Eve, her eyebrow shot up and a wolfish grin climbed on her face.

“Hey, I think you need to wait your turn,” Hugo’s accent was posh and highly annoying.

“Hugo, get out we are done for the day.” Villanelle never broke eye contact with Eve.

There was a reply, Hugo ‘bumping’ into Eve on his way out, movement on Villanelle’s part, but still they’re eyes never left each other.

Not until Villanelle ran her hand down Eve’s face, her thumb along Eve’s lips, and glanced down at them.

The look went straight into Eve and carried down and down her body until it formed a molten hot pool between her legs.

“Upstairs?” Villanelle finally spoke aloud. Her voice was thicker than normal. Arousal dripping off the single world.

“Yes.” 

Villanelle led. 

Eve followed.

There was an unholy, ethereal tension between them. Each stepped on the elevator and stood at opposite sides, back to the world, only looking at each other.

The way up to the apartment was a pitfall straight into something that would become their fucked up religion and it seemed both women knew that. 

Veins throbbed in Villanelle’s hands from how harsh she held on to the railing.

Taps rapped out from Eve’s shoe against the bottom of the elevator.

Signs of denying themselves.

They wanted and wanted and wanted.

Villanelle’s long throat bobbed when she swallowed, her hazel eyes eating Eve whole.

Eve’s heart boomed with all of it raw muscle, wanting her to tear it out and place it in Villanelle’s hand like the apple Eve handed Adam.

Signs of the long game.

They wanted and wanted ans-

The elevator beeped.

They stepped off and Eve waited behind Villanelle as she unlocked her door. She held it open for Eve and let Eve walk in first. Her eyes grazed all over Eve when Eve passed in front of her. Took in the loose linen grey button up, tucked haphazardly in to olive green pleated chinos.

They still didn’t talk, instead walking beside each other to Villanelle’s bedroom. Walking hand in hand, pushed by fate. 

Everything was so loud. Villanelle’s long thumb rubbing circles in the back of Eve’s hand. Eve’s gentle squeeze as Villanelle opened her bedroom door. 

But once that door shut too, there was only silence. 

They stood chest to chest.

Villanelle breathing was near a pant of anticipation. But she kept her hands at her side and craned her neck to look down at Eve. 

“Are you sure?” 

Villanelle’s words echoed in the room. Bounced off the walls. Clung to Eve’s heart.

They were so seemingly innocent. 

Matched with Villanelle’s innocent eyes. 

Those damn eyes that have so much love, Eve finally admitted that’s what it was, had the sun sparklingly against the water dancing on her bottom eye lids.

The sun framed her face, making her cheekbones seem a little sharper, her brow a bit more pronounced, while putting the freckles near her other eye in the dark.

It was as if Eve was staring right at a painting and every moral code in her mind screamed about how you shouldn’t touch paintings because you will ruin them. Maybe Eve had been using the excuse of being Villanelle’s therapist to hide the fact that she thinks she will ruin Villanelle. 

Eve wonders if Villanelle has ever thought about the fact that Eve will ruin her.

Or even knows that Eve will ruin her because Eve knows.

God, does she know.

But that doesn’t stop her.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is hornY and I kinda want to try to get it out before I shove my brain in the oven after sundays episode because I'm not going to be able to handle having thoughts  
> Follow me on Twitter @JClawesome Tumblr @theworldandyourself


	18. You Fucked A Stapler

There was only one proper way to pray, and that was on her knees.

Villanelle lowered down to both her knees, becoming an offering for Eve. Trying to make Eve understand that Villanelle is seeing her as who she is. Seeing her as an unobtainable holy being.

Eve's eyes followed her down. Her lips stayed parted after she said she was sure.

The first time they kissed, it's because Eve got to be above Villanelle.

Villanelle was sure she wanted that to be the first time they had sex too.

She grabbed Eve's hand and began pressing her lips up and down each finger. Nipped at a wrinkle on the back of her hand. Wanted to worship Eve's body the way she worshipped Eve's mind.

Her hand, rough, large, violent, covered Eve's, soft, dainty, loving, against her own sharp cheek. Little critters fluttered in her stomach as she prepared to speak.

"Show me how to love you, Eve."

A coldness pricked at the side of her nose up to the corner of her eyes. Tears always came after that feeling.

Does Eve feel the same way sometimes?

That biting frost before it melts and spills out.

Villanelle would kill to make sure Eve never felt it again.

"I don't need to. You _love_ me perfectly," Eve finally moved. It was just the small moment of her thumb brushing Villanelle's cheek. 

Villanelle's tongue darted out to wet her lips, then she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking up at Eve in disbelief.

Eve ended up lowering herself to be level with Villanelle. 

Not above her.

Not below her.

Just her equal.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Villanelle admitted.

She's been with countless models, a few employees, peers in college. But it was all just fucking. Hard, fast, rough.

Villanelle wants to be rough with Eve. 

_Eventually_ , she told herself.

Because this time was not about fucking Eve. Making Eve throb and ache the next morning with the reminder of what she did. That would come eventually.

Tonight, however, was a completely different story. Tonight was about Villanelle offering herself to Eve and letting Eve take and take and take.

"Get on the bed, okay?" 

Eve spoke with a tenderness Villanelle had come to learn is it's own language.

"Okay." 

Villanelle rose, offering a hand for Eve to follow. 

After Eve stood, she guided Villanelle backward until Villanelle's knees hit the back of her bed. Her hand pushed on Villanelle's shoulder and Villanelle let herself fall back, bouncing then using her elbows to scoot back a bit more. 

She expected Eve to crawl on top of her, but Eve just watched her.

"What now, Eve?"

"I'm going to undress." 

It was said in a way that had Villanelle also doing the same thing. She sat up and chucked her Alexander McQueen blazer towards the desk.

Eve had just unfinished unbuttoning her linen shirt and placed it on the ground beside her, also attempting to toss her glasses over onto Villanelle's desk.

They missed their mark and wrinkles formed around her eyes when the corners of her lips rose.

She was so beautiful.

Sun shining off her pale olive skin. There was the faintest tan line on her arms and Villanelle wondered if Eve had been tending to the actual garden on her roof and not just the one she started in Villanelle’s chest.

Her shoulders flexed as she bent over to take off her flats and then tugged down her pants.

Villanelle only stopped watching to remove her own Chloe ribbed top and jeans. After being reduced down to her matching set of Coco de Mer blossom underwear, she pulled her knee to her chest and beheld Eve.

Villanelle was so used to always being temptation, her heart and core throbbed at the temptation sat in front of her. 

Eve walked towards her, her hands resting on either of Villanelle’s knees then seperating them. She crawled up on the bed and her lips quickly found Villanelle, using her weight to make Villanelle lay back. 

Villanelle hooked her legs behind Eve’s thigh and rolled her hips up. There kiss is broke by Eve gasping but Villanelle quickly leaned up and bit down on Eve’s lip. One hand found place in Eve’s hair to hold her head down to hers and the other found place under the band of Eve’s underwear, squeezing her ass and pushing her down to also roll her hips.

“God,” Eve groaned. Her forehead pressed against Villanelle’s. “Why have I been waiting to do this?”

“I have no idea, Eve.” Villanelle moved her hand from Eve’s hair so she could graze her thumb over Eve’s lips. “You are so beautiful.”

"Says you," Eve breathed and shook her head. "You're practically a goddess."

Villanelle chuckled at Eve calling someone else something she literally was, then quieted when Eve went in for her kill.

At first just pressing her lips to Villanelle's jugular. 

Feeling the fluttering pound of Villanelle's rapid heart under her soft lips.

Then her mouth opened.

Teeth grazed.

" _Oh._ God, Eve. Fuck."

Hand tightened on her ass.

Pushed Eve into her.

Hips jerked.

_Oh, Eve, now this isn't holy at all_.

Eve's lips curled into a smirk against Villanelle's neck and even though Villanelle's eyes were close, when Eve leaned away from her, her weight disappearing from Villanelle's chest, Villanelle knew Eve was admiring her mark.

"Look at me."

Villanelle forced her eyes open, brows shooting up as she's met with a braless Eve. 

"Hell-o." Villanelle watched Eve's face as she sat up, wrapping her hand around Eve's left breast and then her lips around Eve's nipple. 

Eve's hips rolled and her head fell back, mouth open.

The moan that slipped out from deep in her throat was a song Villanelle would never tire of.

Wanting to praise it, she moved her lips from Eve’s nipple up her chest and bit down on the base of Eve’s stretched neck.

There were words caught in her own throat. 

Nervousness holding them back with it’s violent grip.

_I want to be good enough for you, Eve._

_I want to do this right, Eve._

_I want you to know how much I love you, Eve._

_Am I enough for you, Eve?_

Eve unhooked Villanelle’s bra and pushed her away so Villanelle could finish removing it. It gave Villanelle a chance to study the bruise she left on Eve. One part upset she left a bruise on Eve, but two parts wanting to cover Eve all over.

_You’re mine now, Eve._

_Mine._

_Mine._

_Mine._

Two sides of Villanelle fought. She itched to flip Eve over and have her way with her.

But she burned with the way Eve massaged her breasts and guided her onto her back. Her thumbs circled Villanelle’s hardened nipples and she leaned down towards Villanelle’s ear.

“Let me show you how I love, and then you can show me how you do, okay?”

_How I love you._

Villanelle nodded and let her eyes shut. She wants to feel it all. Everything. 

Villanelle wants to feel and feel and feel.

The way Eve kisses down her jaw, her neck, her chest, her-

Villanelle squirms under Eve when she swirls her to give around her nipple. Around and around. She twirls her hands in Eve's hair. Around and around the curls.

Every pass, every graze of a tooth, every feeling made Villanelle nearly hurt with how bad she wanted Eve. 

Eventually, Eve must have decided the slow, burning torture was enough because her lips trailed down Villanelle’s unblemished abdomen

“You’re so pretty.”

“ _Eve_.” 

Villanelle gasped and hips jerked and her hands moved and Eve wasn’t even _touching_ her yet and oh, god.

Her voice was high, breathy, a new sound she herself hasn’t even heard before.

Three little words to make her moan like she was on the verge of coming.

She can feel Eve smile against her jutting hip bone, unable to look, unable to think, just-

“Eve, please.”

“Of course.” Eve pulled the ribbons at each of side of the dip in Villanelle’s hip, then picked them up and tossed the wet panties after Villanelle lifted her hips up. “ _Fuck, Vill_.”

Villanelle knew she was soaked, knew she could probably come with Eve never once touching her, knew she was ruined by this.

“I want you to watch, okay?” Eve’s voice does things to Villanelle. The low tone, the american twang, the roughness, the way it’s dripping with arousal.

Villanelle listened, of course. 

Willed her eyes open and propped herself up on her elbows, a pull tight in her triceps.

“So good.”

Her hips rolled again but she caught the moan in her throat. 

But the reaction was enough to set Eve into motion.

She hooks her arms around Villanelle’s thighs, nails digging, before leaning down, and Villanelle wants to let her head fall back, wants to move her hands to Eve’s hair, wants-

Eve’s tongue presses flat and then moves and then circles and Villanelle’s hips jerk. She circles once, twice, then goes back down to Villanelle’s entrance. Eve moves slow and tandalizing and presses hard. It’s it own type of teasing, type of torture.

It’s the type of not enough where it’s pulling Villanelle tight. Tighter. A band stretched on the verge of snapping, except Eve is holding this band and knows its limits. Knows how to hold it right there, the moment before it snaps.

High pitch moans when Eve circled her clit, whines when Eve dipped inside, gasps when Eve flicked. All noises Villanelle has never made before and she just wants to fucking come at this point. Clenching, throbbing, it’s all too much yet not enough. Villanelle was gluttonous, greedy, lustful. Villanelle wanted more and more and more.

“I’m so close Eve. I’m- _fuck_ \- I’m- _Eve_ , please I need more.”

Then it’s nothing.

Eve pulled away from her and crawled back up Villanelle’s body. 

Rays from the window make Eve’s lips and chin glisten. Her left hand slides between Villanelle’s bun and scalp while her right hand moves down and down and-

It’s not until Eve’s tongue slides in her mouth, until Eve’s fingers slide inside her sopping center, until Eve’s hand yanks Villanelle’s hair, until Eve’s teeth pull Villanelle’s bottom lip, until-

“Eve, I’m gonnacome. I’mgonnacome,” Villanelle chanted.

Her hips frantically rolled to meet Eve’s thrusts. The band is just started to snap, it just needs one more tug, one more pull, one more-

“Be good and come for me, Vill.”

“ _Oh. God. Eve.”_ Villanelle sobbed, grateful and pained.

It snaps.

Fuck, does it snap.

It’s ragged gasps, and waves, and crashing, and storms.

It’s the color red and it’s passion and it’s nearly painful.

And her head falls back and her mouth is opened and she’s whimpering.

But her eyes never close. Never leave Eve’s. Never shut.

Not with every shake Eve drawls out, not with every feeling and emotion, not with anything because Eve told her to watch, and Villanelle wants so dearly to be good for Eve.

* * *

A marker tickled against Eve’s stomach being dragged along by Villanelle’s hand. The red cap hung from Villanelle’s mouth while the pencil case full of all the other ones sat next to Eve.

She was crying after her orgasm. It was new. But Eve held her and kissed her until she stopped. Then Villanelle announced it was her turn to show Eve how she loved. She thinks she caught Eve off guard when instead of fucking Eve then and there, she got off the bed to fetch the markers.

But she was trying to show Eve.

She spit the cap out and spoke. “I’ve been learning about Ragnarok this week, Eve.”

Eve was used to Villanelle’s random and weird interests. Appreciated them.

“What have you learned?”

“After all the bad things happen. The gods die, the world burns…” Villanelle trailed off as she paused for her dizzy mess of swirls under Eve’s navel to come together in one line and go to the center of Eve’s throat. Their faces were close and she stared into Eve’s practically black eyes as she continued, “A pair of lover’s survived. You know what I thought about that?”

“What?” Eve’s voice was a sigh of it’s normal fullness.

“They probably blamed themselves. Looked back at all of the destruction that happened before they got together and thought that that all happened for them to get together.”

“Didn’t it?”

Villanelle glanced down to Eve’s lips then back at her eyes. “No, Eve. All that happened regardless of them, it just happened at the same time. Correlation but not causation. And actually, _Eve_ ,” Villanelle reached for the cap of the marker and put it back on before tossing the marker, “these two lovers, innocent lovers, became a beacon of hope for a new life.”

She pressed her lips against Eve’s before Eve could argue the answer. Her tongue slipped into Eve’s mouth and she can still taste herself, moans at the taste of herself. 

But she has priorities. The teasing with markers and stories is enough, and she wants Eve to come against her mouth. It’s a crude thought but it’s Villanelle’s brain.

Her lips followed the line down Eve’s throat, down her sternum, down her stomach, and stops at the plain and simple black bikini briefs. She smiles at them. So seemingly Eve. She expects that Eve probably would have wore lingerie tomorrow to attempt to impress Villanelle but this was so much better.

Her hand cusps the wet patch and pressed it into Eve’s swollen folds. 

“Fuck, Vill,” Eve’s words are not music. They are harsh and rough. They are perfect.

“I will. Move your hips so I can take these off.”

Eve rolled her eyes at Villanelle’s gruffness, but listened.

Villanelle didn’t waste time.

She began lapping and suck at Eve, one hand holding Eve down with the twirl of lines and the other slinking down to slide two fingers in Eve.

“Jesus Chist,” Eve gasped. One hand pulled on Villanelle’s hair and one got thrown over her eyes.

Eve tasted delicious. A perfect treat for someone as gluttonous as Villanelle.

Her wet walls clutched at Villanelle’s long fingers already. So soon.

Villanelle slowly swirled her tongue around Eve’s clit, stopping and flicking at the top, the bottom, one side, and-

“Oh, _god_ , right there. Vill, baby, you-fuck-you're so good." 

And Eve's throbbing and clenching around her fingers. Eve's pulling at Villanelle's hair and she knows Eve is right there and she wants to keep being so good and she wants to be better than good and she wants to be perfect for Eve.

As she slides back into Eve, she gives another finger, gives the edge of her teeth, gives a moan because Eve deserves to passion, Eve deserves to feel good, Eve deserves all Villanelle has to give and Villanelle knows, she knows all the way to her core that's throbbing with want of more, she knows that Villanelle will give Eve all she is capable of even if it's not a lot 

Villanelle will give Eve everything even if it's rotten and unholy.

* * *

London night lights illuminated Villanelle' room. The yellow, warm glow polluting the ability to see the stars. They reflected off the under carvings of a wooden chess set making the pieces seem like tall buildings in their own right.

Villanelle moves her gold stained pawn forward, chin resting on her grey fleece jogger covered knee. When she moves her hand away she looks up at Eve sitting across from her on the floor, in one of Villanelle's flannels and a pair of boxers. Her hair is still frazzled with sex and, regardless of the London lights, she was glowing.

"Where did you learn to play chess?" Eve asked, moving her dark red pawn in front of Villanelle's in a terrible move.

As Eve looked up, Villanelle looked down to attempt to not get caught staring.

"I spent a lot of time at Carolyn's when I first got in London because of Konstantin. She taught me to play and would play me once a day before I started beating her." Villanelle picked up her knight and pondered a moment before placing it a few spots from Eve's king. "Check."

Instead of taking Villanelle's knight with her bishop, Eve moved her king forward from the back row. It got her out of check… but was a strange tactic. An offensive tactic hidden in the guise of a defensive.

Villanelle knew her brow quirked for a moment, even if she willed it not to. She didn't look up to see if Eve noticed the fault in her façade because of course Eve would.

"Carolyn used us."

"Huh?" Villanelle looked up, not paying attention to what opened up when she moved her queen to set Eve up for check-mate.

"Her and Konstantin wanted to get rid of your diagnosis and I guess Carolyn told him I was the only person that would try. They don't care about you getting better or dealing with trauma or-"

"It doesn't matter, Eve, because you did make me better. I am less angry at the world than I was nearly a year ago. I am… opening up about things. You are showing me that it is okay for me to feel." 

Eve pressed her lips together then looked down at the board. "Why did you start researching ragnarok?"

It seems to be a weird jump of subject, but Villanelle knows how Eve got there from their conversation.

"I was thinking about going to Norway for a few days. Small town right on a lake. Then I started reading about Norway, and then Old Norse mythology." Villanelle shrugged, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Eve looked up and smiled in a way Villanelle didn't understand. It made Villanelle warm, and also her heart beat faster. Eve was thinking and that scared Villanelle.

"I love you."

The smile widened then Eve spoke again.

"I love you so much."

Then there's that pulling again on either side of Villanelle's nose. Her body wanting to tear up. She twitched her nose trying to make it go away.

"You do?" She had to make sure.

"Yeah," Eve sighed and looked down at the board, still a soft smile, "I have for a while now."

"I love you too, Eve."

Eve laughed. "I know."

"You know?" Villanelle exclaimed. "That's not fair."

"You didn't know I loved you already?" 

"Why would you? I am not… good for you. It's not easy. It's not… rewarding. It's going to hurt you." Villanelle looked up, wide-watery eyes, and she wanted to scream at Eve to run away because Villanelle is spoiled. Sour, and foul. She is toxic and harmful.

"Then I am going to choose to be hurt by you everyday, okay?"

However Eve wasn't asking for permission, she was telling Villanelle:

_I am going to choose to love you everyday regardless of what it brings. I'm going to choose you to love and be hurt by._

She glanced up at Villanelle once more, her last bishop hanging loosely from her fingers.

"Okay?" She repeated.

Villanelle nodded. "Okay."

"Good." She put the chess piece down. "Check-mate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to say what I want to say... But guys don't post leaked spoilers on the tl, don't react to the leaked spoilers, and just please think about other people ❤️❤️❤️  
> Follow me on Twitter @JClawesome  
> Tumblr @theworldandyourself


	19. Nice to meet you, Villanelle

Eve spent the night.

It wasn’t the plan.

Hell, sleeping with Villanelle wasn’t part of her plan.

Did she even have a plan?

Not that it mattered, because in the here and now, she’s left MI5, became a wealthy therapist, bought a house, left her husband, slept with her client, and told her she loved her.

_ Told her she loved her _ .

It definitely wasn’t planned. 

But Villanelle in a soft cotton white shirt, soft fleece joggers, hair pulled over one shoulder, wrapped up around herself, and talking about her weird mind just overwhelmed Eve with the need to say it. It wasn’t romantic or because Villanelle did anything special. It was because Villanelle was… fantastically herself and it made the feeling erupt from Eve.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Villanelle asked and tucked a note of the groceries into the breast pocket of the shirt she allowed Eve to borrow. 

The front door held her weight and her left foot was up and pressing against the side of her calf. They had breakfast together-well, Villanelle had ‘breakfast’ and they ended up eating cereal because they ran short on time.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Eve confirmed.

Villanelle swayed the door back and forth, making obvious she still had something to say.

“What?”

“I love you.” Her lips quirked up, unmatching to the nervousness in her eyes.

Eve smiled and laughed through her nose. “I love you too.” Eve took a step back. “Now don’t get up to too much trouble that you’re late tonight.”

“Me? Trouble?” Villanelle watched Eve step back on the elevator. “I never get in trouble, Eve.”

Then right before the elevator doors shut, Villanelle called out one more time, “I love you!”

Eve smiled. “I love you too,” she whispered and knew that somehow, Villanelle heard it.

* * *

Eve’s first priority of business after leaving Villanelle’s was getting to an impromptu lunch with her soon to be ex-husband, no divorce lawyers involved.

She pulled down the mirror of her car, and made sure that when she buttoned the shirt up all the way to the top, the collar covered the dark hickey at the base of her neck but if she leaned too far forward, accidentally scratched her neck… well, Eve could be fucked.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Eve launched out of her seat 

Who the-

Niko pressed his lips together and gave a wave.

Oh, he was smiling.

It was hard to tell from under all that fur.

Now that Eve's not married to him, she wonders how the hell she allowed that mustache to last their entire marriage.

Maybe that's why it didn't.

She grabbed her purse and got out of the car.

"Long night?" Niko asked, in an unreasonably good mood.

_ "You beat me?" Villanelle asked in disbelief. She swiped her hand across the chessboard sending the pieces flying towards the bed. "Get up." _

_ Was she actually mad that Eve won? The way her voice deepened… Eve couldn't help but listen. She watched Villanelle follow her up. _

_ With one long step forward, Villanelle was pressed up to Eve. Her fingers played with one of the two buttons on the shirt Eve swiped from Villanelle and that's when Eve became aware of the heat flickering between her legs once again. Her other hand intertwined with Eve's. _

_ "Do you like the view?" Her voice was still deep, but it wasn't an anger type of deep.  _

__ _ Eve nodded. _

__ _ "Good," Villanelle took her hand from the buttons and pushed Eve's hair over her shoulder, diving into her neck, "because I'm going to fuck you while you look at it." _

"Yeah," Eve cleared her throat, "you could say that. You?"

"No, I've been getting to bed at a pretty decent time now."

_ Now that you aren't keeping me up. _

"Probably why you wanted to meet so early," Eve guessed and started towards the bistro.

"It's nearly noon, Eve." Niko hurried to hold the door open for his soon to be ex-wife.

"Don't be so fucking condescending," Eve said without thinking. She paused in the doorway, wanting to turn and apologize, but in the end, continuing to walk forward.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just…" Niko sighed. "Sorry." 

_ He was apologizing to her? _

As they both ordered food, Eve ran through the possibilities of why Niko would be happy, apologize to Eve, and actually be able to small talk.

Then as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, it hit her.

“You’re seeing someone.”

Niko slid into his seat and didn’t deny it.

Eve sat down her sandwich but did not sit down herself.

“When did this start?”

“Not officially until a week ago.”

“We’re still married.”

“I know, Eve!” Niko threw his head into his burly hands. “I know. But you aren’t making this easy.”

“I’m not making this easy,” Eve scoffed. “I told you that as long as I can have  _ my _ money, and  _ my _ new house, you can have everything. The old house, the cars, everything in them.”

“And that hurts me. That you don’t want anything from our time together. At work, people talk about you, you know? How you hang out with Ms. Villanelle Astankova now? They ask me if I ever met her or when you two started being best mates.” Niko picked at the edge of his sandwich wrapper. “It’s funny how after we split you immediately started spending time with her.”

“Niko, I’m not the one fucking someone else already.”

_ Eve, you dirty liar _ , she scolds herself.

Niko nodded, defeated. “I thought since we had been married for so long, you wouldn’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth, have you done anything with her? I’ll agree to everything then and we can be done with all this.”

Eve glanced around, making sure no one was a nosy eyedropper since Niko boldly announced Villanelle’s name. Once she was sure no one was paying them mind, she confirmed Niko’s suspicions.

“We kissed a couple weeks ago, and things have… developed.”

“She has a girlfriend, Eve- You’re her therapist.”

“Which is why we aren’t… I might not be her therapist anymore in a few weeks.”

“You’re quitting?”

“Yeah.” That was the easiest way to say it. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea, Niko. But I’ll figure it out.”

“Is she…”

“Yeah, she’s good to me. She’s not a psychopath.”

Niko looked at his wife the way one would look at a stranger they pitied. At the end of the day, Niko didn’t want anything bad to happen to Eve. He didn’t want her to be manipulated, he didn’t want her to be hurt, he didn’t want her causing harm to herself.

Eve sighed and finally relented, sitting down. “Tell me about who you’re seeing.”

“Oh! She’s a new English teacher at the school and…”

As Niko eyes lit up, and he began telling Eve about Gemma, Eve was filled with gratitude to be married to Niko for so long. He loved with all his being and was obviously going to be so good to Gemma. She did wonder if Gemma would tire of Niko one day. If he was the man that initially seemed so lovely, but then really doesn’t have much substance outside of the person he loved. 

In a few weeks, she’ll feel a pang of grief when the decree absolute arrives and the divorce is official. It’ll be an entire part of her life coming to a close, not just a chapter, or a few pages, but an entire act.

But Eve’s ready. 

She’s ready for this next part of her life, and she’s ready for it to be with Villanelle.

* * *

Martin Akhtar was in the middle of a lecture when Eve arrived. It didn’t stop her from walking in and sitting in one of the back seats.

“When people are alone, they will act far differently than they do within groups. This is because of a need to fit in. A need to conform.”

Eve glanced around the room as Martin kept talking, watching some students take notes, some take naps, and the one beside her watched Tangled with no headphones and lightly playing, annoying not only Eve but the person on the other of the student.

“In large groups, people will even give up their own beliefs, ones that they believe in with everything that makes them...them, for this basic human need of conformity. They’ll do it to the point that they believe that they aren’t changing, that this is who they always were. But you pluck them out of that group, you put them by themselves or just with one or two other people for a few days, weeks, and it becomes apparent who this person really is. Alone time gives us humans as much information as sitting in a lecture hall and listening to a random middle-aged man talk about our brains.”

The students gave the required laughter and the lesson slowly came to an end before they were all dismissed. The student beside Eve too engrossed in Tangled to notice her classmates getting up.

“Uh hey, the lecture is over.” Eve nudged the girl with her forearm. 

“And?” She spat back then clicked up the volume of the movie.

“Eve Polastri?” Martin called from his desk, looking right at Eve. “Carolyn said you were probably visiting to talk about an old friend?”

_ An old friend _ .

Eve spared one last glance at the twenty-something year old before getting up and meeting Martin at his desk. “Yeah, Villanelle Astankova.”

Martin nodded. “You’re her latest therapist?”

“And hopefully last,” Eve added. 

“That’s… not a smart idea. Psychopaths need to be monitored.”

“Villanelle isn’t a psychopath.”

“Except she is.” Martin crossed his arms and rested against his desk. “Are you in a relationship with her?”

“No.” Eve’s hand automatically went up to her collar.

“You used to work for MI5, right? Took an interest in psychopaths?”

Eve nodded.

“So you know how talented they are at manipulating people, making people think that they aren’t psychopaths. When in reality they are as human as…” Martin looked at objects around him on his desk, “well as a stapler, or an eraser.”

“Psychopaths  _ are _ human. They might not have deep empathy but they can feel loyalty, respect. They can have families. They aren’t inherently monsters.”

“Are you defending psychopaths or are you defending Villanelle?”

“I’m telling the fucking truth!” Eve raised her voice, rumbling even over the annoying Disney movie playing in the background. “It is irresponsible of you to dehumanize anyone with a mental disorder.”

“Have you had sex with her?” Martin interrupted.

“ _ All those days, chasing down a daydream, _

_ All those years, living in a blur, _

_ All that time, never truly seeing” _

Eve turned to glare at the girl still watching fucking Tangled. “Can you leave?”

“I’m trying-”

“Maria, please leave,” Martin interrupted, gesturing to the exit with his hand. Afterward, he spun around and picked up the stapler off his desk. “You fucked a stapler.”

“Villanelle’s not even a psychopath.”

Martin faced Eve again. “Do you know why I diagnosed her as a psychopath?”

“Why?” Eve asked, ready to disprove whatever he says.

“She lacks empathy. Told me she was happy to see her mother die. She got in fights at her boarding school in Russia, ‘for fun’. She’s impulsive-”

“Villanelle has done nothing but shown self-control and keeping a clean image.”

“Because she’s highly intelligent and knows how to protect herself. Another psychopathic trait.”

“All of your ‘psychopathic traits’ are traits that could match someone with childhood trauma.”

“Maybe, but Villanelle doesn’t have childhood trauma. There are plenty of public images of her with her father and how generous he was with her before his death.”

Dry, harsh laughter couldn’t be contained slid out of Eve’s lungs at the irony. “Psychopaths are highly intelligent. Know how to protect themselves.”

Martin paused, considering what Eve was saying. “Psychopathy is genetic.”

“Can be. Just because someone has a psychopathic parent or parents doesn’t mean they will end up being one.” Eve’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to glance at who was calling.

Villanelle.

She probably just got off work and wants to hang out with Eve before their date, knowing her. Eve smiled at the idea of finally having a real date with Villanelle, even though she ignored Villanelle’s call and turned her phone off.

She continued, “Villanelle is making a public statement later this week. Just… take it into consideration and maybe schedule a meeting with her. Rediagnosis with the new information.” She fixed her back and began walking away, up the stairs.

“Why shouldn’t I report you for having sex with your client?” Martin asked.

Eve looked back, “I never said I did.”

* * *

It was a good day. Going to keep being a good day.

We Got The Beat blasted on Eve’s radio as she turned on her street. Two bags from Matches in her passenger seat with a fancy new lingerie set and a beautiful patterned blue Altuzarra dress that Eve loved and thought Villanelle would appreciate it’s deep v in the front.

“Do the pony, puts us in a trance. Do what you see just give us a chance,” Eve sang along, moving her shoulders to the beat and tapping on her steering wheel. Her and Niko are finally on agreement about getting a divorce. She’s planted the doubt in Martin’s mind about Villanelle being a psychopath. She hasn’t turned her phone back on yet, but on the radio she heard two people discussing how leaked photos of Nadia and some man were discovered and they are waiting to see if Villanelle speaks about being cheated on.

She would drop her new clothes off at her house, then head back out to pick up the groceries for Villanelle. Eve hasn’t spared the list a glance, wanting it to be a surprise. God, she felt like a giddy little-

Her front door is open.

There’s a bloody handprint.

Her heart stopped beating as she pulled in her garage and hurried to the entranceway. Clothes forgotten, and happiness left in the car.

“Hello?” Eve called out before following the trail of blood drops.

Silence answered her.

Eve made it to the first floor, nothing out of place except that added blood decorating the floor. 

She kept following the blood trail. The drops becoming further apart meaning either the person grabbed something to hold against it, or the wound was clotting.

It did occur to her at some point she should just call the police. 

But, another part of her said there wasn’t enough time for the police to get here and kept pushing her forward.

Forward all the way to her bathroom.

To her bathtub.

Where a raided first aid kit laid beside it and nearly an entire pool of blood.

Where a ragged, heaving breaths were coming from.

Where Villanelle was pale, sweaty, and shirtless, holding a freshly stitched wound under shaky hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> niko's a fucking simp that got vibe checked  
> follow me on twitter @JClawesome  
> or on tumblr @jayclawesome cuz I switched my usernames so they match


	20. Maybe, I shouldn't have left

_ September 23, 2019 _

Another new therapist, another new month.

At least, that’s how Villanelle has been counting off the months since she’s been going through therapists faster than models in her bed. She’s yet to manage to go through a therapist in exactly one session so she sets that goal for herself today. The nice part about therapists is they allow her to get out that urge to hurt people and they can’t go to the media about it.

Well, they weren’t supposed to go to the media about it. There was the pesky one that leaked how she’s a psychopath and for the most part, Villanelle recovered for it. She goes to special mental health events and recites perfected speeches, cracking her voice at the right parts that make the audience think she’s a good person.

Not that Villanelle really cares about being a good person. But she likes her job, she likes the money, the fashion, the big building with her name plastered on it.

Villanelle played with a fringe piece of string from the floral embroidery of her bomber jacket. 

_ Was this all she was? _

A psychopath that gets her rocks off on making therapists hate her and the fashion she gets for free because of her connections?

“Fuck,” Villanelle sighed and leaned back against the elevator to her latest victim.

She was so bored.

As the elevator went up and up and up, Villanelle just pondered her boredom and why she shouldn’t just go all the way to the top and fling herself off of it so she didn’t need to be so goddamn bored all the time.

But the elevator dinged and she slid her hands into her pocket and strolled to office 603 without knocking.

“It is a beautiful day to be a psycho-” Villanelle’s words froze in her throat when she saw her therapist. 

Beautiful, untamed wild curls. Dark brunette, nearly brown, a few greys. Some curls fell short and framed her face while others went all the way past her shoulders.

It was a sea of browns and greys and waves and boldness and-

Villanelle swallowed as she shifted her weight on her back foot. 

“Eve Polastri?” Her voice nearly squeaked.

“Yes, yes, sorry I’m-” Eve looked up from her papers, meeting Villanelle’s eyes for the first time. Dark, deep brown. Eyes of a deer, but not as skittish. They scanned over Villanelle’s clothes before, seemingly uninterested, she looked back down at her papers. “I was just getting some things ready.”

She picked up a notepad and her glasses that were originally resting on top of it before making her way over to Villanelle, holding out a hand.

Villanelle stared at it.

The faintest age spots and veins decorating it. Eve’s other hand had a wedding ring and Villanelle wished for a moment that she picked it.

That thought sent something down her spine and made her uncomfortable. Shots of adrenaline stabbed in her arms with pins and needles sharp enough to scar and filling her veins with one word.

_ Run _ .

Villanelle took Eve’s hand and shook it. 

“Villanelle Astankova.”

Eve’s grip was every bit as strong as Villanelle’s, if not stronger. Maybe even challenging the blonde.

“Nice to meet you, Villanelle.”

Five little words that registered in Villanelle’s brain as one.

_ Run. _

* * *

_ October 7, 2019 _

Two weeks later, Villanelle’s stomach was curdling as she took the stairs two at a time. She pulled on the strap of her canvas backpack and debated turning around and calling Eve’s secretary to say she was sick.

Actually, know what? 

That’s exactly what she’s going to do.

Villanelle turned and started down the staircase.

One flight.

Two.

“Hi, Villanelle!” Eve called from the bottom of the next flight carrying a coffee. “I was just grabbing a coffee. Did I miss you?”

“No… I was just… getting some exercise in,” Villanelle quickly made up. “The stairs in my building are being painted and the paint makes it hard to breathe.”

Eve glanced at Villanelle’s platform boots. An obvious giveaway that that wasn’t what she was doing. But Eve played along, “Have you tried going to a gym?”

_ Yes _ .

“No, do you know any good ones?” Villanelle asked then spun to walk up the stairs beside Eve.

Her heart sprung around her chest, making her ribs ache, and her head feel dizzy.

“There’s one I used to go to that offers jiu-jitsu classes. I personally never done them...not my style,” Eve laughed and Villanelle wanted to cry at the beauty of it, “but I can picture you loving it.”

“Do you picture me a lot, Eve?” Villanelle meant to say it with suave, and a small amount of arrogance, but she sounded like a nervous school kid.

Although, the way Eve glanced at her make her wonder if she did come across as suave.

The Russian accent had it’s perks.

“I was just thinking of things you would enjoy. You said you get bored easily.”

“That I do…” which means she should bore of Eve very soon.

* * *

_ November 4, 2019 _

Villanelle plucked a rose petal from a flower bouquet on Eve's desk.

"Did your wife get you these?" She interrupted whatever lesson Eve was harping at her.

"My husband," Eve corrected.

Even if Villanelle wasn't facing her, she could feel Eve's precense behind her.

"I'm sorry. I assumed-"

"It's fine. But I'm not… I'm not gay."

"No?" The petal curled on the edges in Villanelle's hand. She turned so she was trapped between Eve and Eve's desk. "I am."

"Yes, I know. You've made it… you're very open about your sexuality." Eve's eyes were trained on Villanelle's neck and as far as Villanelle was concerned she didn't have any hickeys on her neck. That pesky barista tried to give her one but Villanelle made her turn around so she would stop kissing her. "You changed your perfume."

_ What? _

"What?" Villanelle spoke out loud because she had to make sure she heard Eve right.

"You usually wear something… airy, clean. Fresh."

"Are you saying I smell bad now, Eve?" Villanelle had to tease to cover the way her heart quickened. 

"No, it's just strong. It's…"

"Powerful?" Villanelle smirked. "I switched to Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille."

"I like it," Eve complimented before turning and returning to the sitting area. "Do you want to continue talking?" Her hand was held out to the seat across her.

"Of course, Eve."

But Villanelle had to bite her lip to contain a smile as she realized Eve 'I'm not gay' Polastri might be attracted to her whether Eve was aware of it or not. It changed something in Villanelle to know that this was no longer a completely feral attempt to attract her therapist, but a chance to genuinely have feelings and something more with someone intelligent and funny and-

* * *

_ Christmas Day, 2019 _

Eve, Eve, Eve.

Villanelle threw paint onto a canvas making a mess of the wall behind it.

She refused to do anything fashion related from December 20th to January 5th, which gave her plenty of free time since she had no family to celebrate the holidays with.

Over the holidays, she allowed herself a drink here and there.

Which maybe that’s why she’s awake at one in the morning and there’s an empty bottle of vodka shattered against the wall.

Maybe that’s why more deep, deep brown paint ends up on the wall that Villanelle will have to repaint.

Maybe that’s why Villanelle’s mind is just screaming.

Eve, Eve, Eve.

“Fuck off!” Villanelle chucked the paint brush at the canvas.

It dented the canvas, nearly ripped it.

Villanelle’s stomach dropped.

She damaged the painting.

Of course she did.

Villanelle damages everything.

She will break Eve.

Break her down.

Chew her up.

Cause pain that Eve will never learn to deal with.

Cause pain Eve will never have dealt with.

Villanelle will ruin Eve.

_ Run _ .

That stupid little word wasn’t for Villanelle.

It was for Eve.

_ Run _ .

_ Protect Eve from yourself. _

__ _ Run. _

__ _ Let Eve be happy. _

__ _ Run. _

__ _ You will have her stuck in your teeth for the rest of your despicable life. _

* * *

_ Present Day _

Villanelle never bored of Eve.

Villanelle opened up to Eve more than she opened up to anyone in her life.

The months passed and Villanelle never got the itching, scratching word  _ run _ , out of her mind.

Now she knew what Eve did to her though. Had a word for it.

Eve terrified Villanelle. 

It was more than just fear that Eve made Villanelle feel.

“I love you!” Villanelle called out one more time watching the elevator door shut. She knew Eve probably said it back even if she didn’t hear it. Eve was romantic in her own way.

Eve was the best thing to happen to Villanelle. 

Villanelle hooked the door shut with her foot and pranced to get ready for the day. She made a checklist in her head of things to do.

_ Follow Nadia after work to see if she meets with Diego. _

__ _ Take pictures of her fucking Diego. _

__ _ Anonymously send those pictures to a couple websites. _

__ _ Go shopping for a new suit for Eve. _

__ _ Go to Eve’s place. _

__ _ Impress Eve with my amazing cooking skills. _

__ _ Impress Eve with my amazing taste in wine. _

__ _ Impress Eve with my amazing ability to make her come. _

__ _ Sleep in Eve’s bed. _

__ _ Love Eve. _

It was a well balanced to-do list with really no way for it to go wrong. Possibly the only way it could go wrong is if Nadia and Diego weren’t sleeping together, but… even Eve noticed that there was something going on between the two.

Villanelle not being upset that her girlfriend is cheating on her could probably go under the list of things wrong with her.

A white vertically striped jumpsuit, a white moto jacket, and then a blue New York Yankees baseball cap to match the stripes on her jumpsuit all adorned Villanelle like they were made for her. The look is finished off with white Adidas tennis shoes and heart shaped gold framed glasses. This was going to be Villanelle’s disguise to follow Nadia. It didn’t look suspicious, but also a quick glance made her look like a typical twenty something american. The paparazzi that followed her every move would probably know it was her.

But Nadia wouldn’t. 

She drags the cherry lipstick along her lips, watching ever so carefully in the reflection before snapping the lid on the lipstick and leaning forward to kiss the mirror.

Villanelle smiled at herself knowing that after today, after fucking over Nadia the tiniest bit, just a small bit, that she could be a good person. That she would be a good person for Eve.

* * *

But, it is Villanelle.

She always seems to have a nose for trouble.

A bag in hand carrying her jumpsuit, shoes, and jacket, Villanelle walked out of  _ Harrods _ in a men’s Balmain suit. The shoulders of the blazer are embroidered with white stitching and she is the equal balance of flamboyant and power. 

Diego and Nadia weren’t even hiding their relationship. They began kissing in the alley outside of  _ Villanelle Magazine _ . It made Villanelle’s job a lot easier. 

Konstantin called her at one point. Informed her that he met with the board members and that there would be a press conference on Friday for Villanelle to announce and discuss the name change of  _ Vasiliev & Vasiliev _ .

She was happy.

It was a new feeling. Warm. One that settled deep in her stomach and then warmed her through peaceful waves.

Villanelle slid her phone out of her pocket to call Eve and see if she wanted to meet early. Why wait?

They could really just spend all their time together for the rest of their-

“Excuse me, ma’am."

A gruff, large man bumped into Villanelle and at first, besides rolling her eyes, she didn't think much of it.

Then the warmness of Eve started spilling out in chilling wet lines under her new oxford and blazer.

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

Villanelle slid her hand inside her shirt, meeting stickiness. 

Hot.

Wet.

Slickness.

"Eve, I think I got stabbed."

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

Villanelle pressed her bag to her stomach as she stumbled alleyway to alleyway trying to avoid cameras. She figured she was in luck after the third alleyway, and allowed herself a break.

"Eve," Villanelle huffed trying to catch her breath, "I don't… I definitely got stabbed." 

She held the phone between her shoulder and ear, ripping open her shirt and looking at the wound.

"I'm coming over to your house. I don't… I don't want to be alone, Eve."

Villanelle put her phone back in her pocket and rebuttoned her blazer leaving the now red oxford peeking out from under it.

This had to be someone from the board… someone that doesn't want her to talk about what her family did to her.

In her right mind, she knew she should go to the hospital, but she also knew that if someone hired an assassin to kill her they wouldn't be past sending one to her hospital room. 

Fuck.

Was she being followed?

No. 

He walked away, he must have assumed he hit something important.

Did he?

Villanelle pushed herself off the wall and continued forward.

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

"Eve… are you not answering on purpose? I… you aren't mad at me right? I didn't… I thought you were okay with me hurting Nadia so we could be together."

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

"It's not… you aren't ignoring me because we… the sex? The sex was good, yeah? I'm… almost at your house."

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

"I love you."

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

"Is that what did it? Because I said I love you? Did I scare you?”

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

“Eve… I’m here please let me in. I… even if you don’t want to be with me. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

“I’m sorry.”

* * *

"You've reached the voicemail of,  _ Eve Park _ , please leave a message after the tone."

“I’m coming in, Eve.”

Villanelle was holding herself up against Eve’s door, her hand slipping down it leaving a trail of blood. Pain shooting out as she does it, she manages to reach for Eve’s key above her door. Eve mentioned it one time as a throwaway comment.

“Fuck” Villanelle groaned.

Everything hurt.

Eve wasn’t home, so she was doing something more important than Villanelle.

Maybe she went to fix things with Niko.

She wouldn’t say how her divorce was going.

Blood smeared across her face, as Villanelle tried to wipe the tears faster than they fell. 

Her hands were shaking. From blood loss or fear?

She didn’t really know.

It hits her that she finally made it to Eve’s bathroom. She glances around surprised, not even remembering climbing the stairs. 

Villanelle yanked her clothes off, the ruined blazer, the ruined oxford. Everything ruined.

She raided the drawers under Eve’s sink and the cupboards, looking for a first aid. Eve was precautious, borderline pessimistic, she had to have one. 

_ What if I cut myself while shaving, Villanelle?  _

_ What if I fall and hit my head and need stitches? _

Villanelle had a smile at the thought but it disappeared as fast as it came.

The first aid was stashed in the bottom left drawer and Villanelle dumped it on the floor. Medical supplies went scattering everywhere as she kneeled and searched for a packaged needle and thread. Before finding it, she grabbed the alcohol and washed off the wound, a groan bubbling out as the alcohol burned the wound.

Her hands were shaking bad by the time she found the suture needle. Breathes coming out in sharp pants, and pained moans.

As she crawled in the bathtub to lay back and attempt to fix this mess, the possibility of dying in the bathroom of someone who regrets telling her she loves becomes more apparent.

There’s a puddle of rubbing alcohol diluted blood. 

There’s a white oxford turned dark red with a three centimeter whole tore in it. 

There’s a 5,000 Euro blazer, fucking ruined and it was a waste of money because the person Villanelle bought it for regrets telling her that she loves her. Regrets having sex with her. 

Regrets her.

A small aching cry can’t help but slip from Villanelle’s lips as she pulls the suture tight, snips the thread, and ties it off. She placed her hands over the wound and all she could do was hope that the knife didn’t touch any organs.

Villanelle’s mind travels in a mess of disorienting pain, and blood loss.

Floats on, yet hanging by a thread to that initial feeling she had when she met Eve.

The legs of a spider crawling down her spine then scittering back up. Their scrawny, hairy legs poking into her skin. 

When they make their way to her ears they whisper,  _ You hurt her.  _

__ _ You should have ran. _

__ _ We told you. _

__ _ You ruin everything. _

__ _ You could have just been friends with her. _

__ _ Now you made her hate you and you’re going to break her heart _ .

“Villanelle! What happened?” 

Villanelle blinked a few times, refocusing her eye sight to… Eve.

Eve’s mouth kept moving, tears were running from her eyes. Blood splashed as she stepped right through the puddle to get on her knees beside Villanelle. 

How could someone have such doe like eyes without any innocence in them?

They were so beautiful.

If Villanelle did have to die she would be happy dying looking into them.

“h..os...pital! Can you walk?”

Eve was holding Villanelle’s face, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. 

Villanelle wasn't dead.

The assassin didn't hit anything important.

She would be fine.

“Do you love me?” Villanelle croaked out, pulling her away from Eve’s hands.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I do." Eve looked at the wound, her hands pushing around it at Villanelle's organs.

Villanelle smiled and laid her back against the cool lip of the bathtub. 

"Villanelle, you need to get up."

"No. I sewed it shut. If there's any internal damage I would have died already, Eve. Just… just fucking come here," Villanelle manuevered awkwardly in the tub to make room for Eve.

"No, Villanelle, we need-"

"Someone on the board hired an assassin so that I wouldn't make a statement on Saturday about my parents. If they are willing to do that, then I am sure they are willing to tell that assassin they fucked up their job and need to go finish it." Villanelle groaned and turned onto her side. "Eve, I will just stay here until Saturday."

"What if the assassin comes for you?" Eve tried to argue. Precaution. Yet, she was standing up and going over to the discarded first aid contents, not for her cell phone.

"Then we hide in the bathroom and I'll protect us with a toilet brush...Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Eve looked back, picking up a large bandage. “I was meeting with Dr. Martin. I turned my phone off.”

Villanelle’s brows furrowed with recognition. “He is the one… you are helping me.”

“I told you I would. Can you stand up?”

Villanelle nodded and pushed herself up. A sharp wince of pain made Eve jerk forward but Villanelle shook her head.

Eve came closer and squatted down. She peeled open the bandage before running her thumb around the wound, ever so tender. “You could be dead.”

“Would that hurt you, Eve?”

“Of course it would, did the assassin hit you in the head or something?” After sticking the bandage to cover the wound, Eve’s hands gripped Villanelle’s hips and guided Villanelle’s lower abdomen toward her where she pressed her lips over the new bandage. 

Villanelle rubbed her hands on Eve’s shoulders, letting Eve take as much time as she needs and letting her own tears finally fall without her fighting them. 

Eventually, Eve would stand and undress Villanelle and herself. 

Eventually, Villanelle would watch as Eve started a bath and the water turned pink with her blood. 

Eventually, they would leave the bathroom and even though they might walk out as two beings, there was no denying that they had become one. One where neither could run from the other.

So with Eve's lips separated by a thin single layer over a wound that could have killed Villanelle, a small three letter word leaves Villanelle's mind with the spiders following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I put this chapter out before LAST NIGHTS EPISODE BEVAUSE FUCK NOW IT SEEMS LIKE I COPIED  
> Hit me up me on Twitter @JClawesome  
> Tumblr @JayClawesome


	21. Villanelle Astankova

Villanelle stayed at Eve's place like she said.

It wasn't the most convenient of situations. Especially since they were having a strict no sex policy when there is an almost infected wound in the side of her abdomen. That did not mean Villanelle made it easy for Eve, and Eve never really felt comfortable leaving Villanelle alone when there was an assassin that would realize she didn't turn up dead.

"Good morning, Eve."

Coffee spills over the edge of Eve's mug and onto the counter.

"Fuck!" 

"Mmm," Villanelle coming from nowhere slips her arms around Eve's waist, dipping her hands under the waistband of her sweatpants and nipping her neck, "yes we should do that."

Eve rolled her eyes and placed her mug in the sink, removing her body from Villanelle's. "Can I trust you to be alone in here?"

It's been two days but it feels like Villanelle has lived here her whole life. Eve can't imagine a life where she didn't live in this house without her-

_ Her what? _

"Of course you can. It's not like I feel like going out and having someone finish the job." Villanelle opened a cupboard and pulls out a cleaning wipe for Eve's counter. "I don't get why you don't tell your friend to come here."

"I'm going to his office."

Villanelle's face sours. 

"I'm not fucking him. Jesus, Vill." Eve rolled her eyes. "Should you even be out of bed?"

"Are you going to ask that everytime I get out of bed?" Villanelle bit back.

“Yes and if you’re annoyed then stay in the goddamn bed.” 

“I wouldn’t get out of bed if you were still with me.”

“God, you’re needy. How about this? I go meet with Bill, I’ll be gone two hours, and if you’re in bed when I get back…”

Villanelle raised an eyebrow.

"No! Not that. Do not."

Villanelle let out an exasperated sigh. "Then what?" 

Eve walked over to a drawer and pulled out a stack of menus. "I'll let you order whatever you-”

“I want strippers.”

“I meant food.”

“I can eat a-”

“Stop.” Eve scrunched her hair back then left her hands on the top of her head. There was defeat in her shoulders that grew with Villanelle’s grin.

“I’m getting sex!” Villanelle boldly exclaimed, turning and practically bouncing back upstairs. 

Eve looked up to whatever upper being there was and prayed for help with this woman.

* * *

Her eyes trailed down the Thames house and landed on Bill leaning against the building waiting for her.

“Civilians aren’t allowed in,” Bill teased before opening the door up for Eve. “If this is about finding your girlfriend you should go to the police. Although, I don't think  _ you _ will have any trouble finding her.”

Since Villanelle has been missing from the public eye for a few days, all hell has broken loose in the media. Claims that she was kidnapped, died of drug overdose, any and all claims were being made. One day is all it takes to become a social media shit storm. 

Last night, Konstantin called Villanelle to which she explained she is just on vacation and then made the worst decision in the world. After talking to Konstantin, Villanelle decided to take a picture of Eve’s ruffled navy blue comforter and white sheets and post it with the caption, “This vacation has almost been therapy, but maybe it's the company ;)"

It blew up.

Obsessed fans looking into whoever Villanelle has been spending time with, only Eve, then looking up their jobs, Eve's job, and there's probably five thousand or so of Villanelle's fans that are aware that her and Eve are together.

"Didn't you pick up some blue sheets for your bedroom?" Bill asked, interrupting Eve from her thoughts.

" _ Ha ha _ . Everything will make sense when I tell you why I needed to see you." Eve clicked the elevator button for Bill's floor like she still worked there. A part of her always wondered what would have happened if she stayed. Actually, not Villanelle's theory of fate and everything. Would she ever get promoted to MI6? Become an agent?

"And it has to wait until we get to my office?"

"I know where there's CCTV of a domestic assassin," Eve admitted in a hushed tone before the elevator opened.

Bill scoffed. "Eve, this isn't a movie but come on and I'll get the CCTV so you can show me your assassin."

"You'll see I'm right!" Eve wagged her finger.

"Sure. What are you going to say next? Villanelle Astankova got stabbed by your assassin?" Bill opened the door to his office for Eve, who froze in the door way.

"Bill…"

Bill practically pushed Eve into his office and shut the door, locking it. "You're kidding."

"Not at all. She has...some information coming out about the company and apparently someone didn't want that information coming out."

"Did she tell you she was stabbed or-"

"Bill! For Christ's sake she was seeing herself up in my goddamn tub!"

Taking off his fedora, Bill drug his hand down his face. "Why didn't she go to the hospital?"

"So what? The assassin could finish the job?" Eve sat down her purse on Bill's desk and searched in it for a note. She shoved it against Bill's chest. "This is the building she got stabbed in front of. Plain in sight. Bumped her as a distraction while stabbing her."

"In the last year, we've had four similar assassinations. CCTV from the street has always been deleted."

_ Fuck _ .

A wave a despair washed over Eve's shoulders because Villanelle is alone in her house, with an assassin they weren't going to catch on the loose.

Then it hits Eve, "What if you emailed the business, front lobby footage? It would catch the street out front?"

"Maybe, it wouldn't be high enough quality to get a face. Villanelle needs protec-"

"No, Bill!" Eve smacked her hand down on his desk. "Do your goddamn job that I'm telling you how to do. Email them for the CCTV, get an idea of the size, race, gender, anything."

Silence simmered in the room until Bill walked over to his desk and sat down. Keyboard clicks filled the room mixed with a mouse click every now and then. Bill finally listened to Eve. 

It felt good.

To have power.

Eve sat down and moved her purse to her lap, fishing for her phone. As expected, she already had a few texts from Vill. A smile couldn't help but slip on to Eve's face.

"You're glowing," Bill commented. The slightest of smiles at the corner of his lips.

“I’m getting fired, well, technically I’m quitting, but you know.”

“Can you let yourself be happy for once?”

With a loud sigh, Eve rested her face in her hands. “I can never be a therapist again. Any employer will know exactly why I quit one of the best counseling offices in London.”

“So maybe it’s time you do something different. You always did seem to get bored.”

Bill was right. A part of Eve always wanted more and more and more. Nothing ever seemed to satisfy her. So while Bill ended up on the phone with  _ Harrod’s _ , Eve considered what it was that she wanted now. Why she always wanted.

Wanting was always about the future. If someone wants something they are thinking about the unpromised tomorrow. 

After Villanelle got stabbed Eve realized tomorrow really was never promised.

Plus Eve wanted Villanelle. For longer than she ever admitted to herself.

But Eve did not need to want anymore because she had Villanelle. Has. 

That’s when it clicks that Eve doesn’t need to worry about the future. She doesn’t need to want anything ever again because she already has everything she needs. 

“Well, you were right. They had the fucker right on their camera footage, he’d been following Villanelle in the store and then took a side exit. I’m going to send this footage over to someone else and see if they can get an I. D,” Bill said and turned the monitor to Eve so she could watch the footage for herself. 

It was a man built on the larger side, red haired, white. Honestly, nothing out of the ordinary for a wealthy old man in  _ Harrod’s.  _ Then there was Villanelle who seemed in her own world smiling and picking up articles of clothing.

“You did good, Eve. Wouldn’t have thought you ever quit,” Bill complemented. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have left,” Eve replied.

“I think it was good for you. Look at you now, Eve Polastri hanging out with the big names.”

“Just one. You should come over Saturday night. Bring Keiko, I’ll also invite Elena, and Kenny, and maybe Villanelle could bring a few people,” Eve decided this all on the spur of the moment.

“Saturday morning is when Villanelle’s press conference is scheduled?”

“Yeah, we could celebrate that evening.”

"You okay with introducing us to your girlfriend? Especially one you’ve recently almost lost?”

_ Girlfriend? _

Eve had almost suggested it herself this morning, but hearing someone else say it aloud…

“Find this guy and yeah, I’ll introduce you to my girlfriend.”

* * *

Villanelle’s head rested on Eve’s shoulder, her fingers drawing shapes against Eve’s stomach. Their breathing was just on the verge of being back to normal so the only noise echoing in the room was the rain spatter against the window. A sheet was strewn under Villanelle’s left arm and hooked around Eve’s right hip, the comforter had ended up on the floor at some point with their clothes. 

Their legs were intertwined and Eve had a hand pressed to the center of Villanelle’s warm back.

The hired hit-man had been Raymond Smith. A school teacher for christ’s sake. But he was arrested now and anybody he’s had connections with is being investigated. After identifying his face it wasn’t hard for MI5 to locate him and apprehend him.

Eve felt at peace. Even if there were butterflies in her stomach, her head felt...quiet for once.

“Hey Eve?” Villanelle said without lifting her head.

“Yeah?” Eve’s eyes were on the ceiling and maybe something more. The sky. Space. Everything and nothing that’s all hers because of Villanelle.

“Thank you. For everything. I’ve never had anyone care about me like you.”

Eve’s head came up so she could look at Vill. Her lips pressed tenderly against the blonde her. “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you.”

“You’re the best girlfriend I’ve could have ever gotten.”

Villanelle’s words reassured Eve. She said the word girlfriend without Eve having to overthink it or anything. 

Laughter. Full laughter echoing from the base of Eve’s lungs. “You’re so goddamn cheesy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha it's been awhile


	22. You're Drunk

Villanelle walks out on stage in a custom rose made Alexander Queen dress. Practically one of a kind. It was being made for her for another occasion but she figured this was more important. When it got delivered to Eve's house, Eve couldn't keep herself off Villanelle. Her eyes glance at Konstantin who is introducing her to the audience and cameras.

Villanelle was never one to get shy in front of cameras, but knowing Eve and her friends were watching her… judging what she was about to say… there was a twisting pull in Villanelle's stomach. Just as she is about to leave the stage and say fuck it, her phone vibrates in her hand.

_ We're watching!!!! good luck! _

An uncontrollable smile grew on her face as the twisting vines in her stomach bloomed into roses. She looks straight into the camera and nods before taking her spot in front of the podium. She places her phone in the corner next to her typed out speech.

"I want to thank everyone here, and at home watching, for joining us in this monumental day for our company. As many you know, this company was started with two brothers. My father," Villanelle closes her eyes and swallows before continuing, "and my dear uncle. After my father's untimely death, the company became a way to honor him and his namesake. I stand here today as the shared owner with my uncle of this company to say my father does not deserve any honor." 

There's audible gasps in the audience and chatter. Villanelle's hand tightens just the smallest but on the podium.

_ You're doing fantastic. _

The phone lit up for a fraction of a second.

Villanelle's hand loosens on the podium. 

"My father had a very disgusting side business with my mother. My mother would record pornographic films of my father sexually assaulting me, starting from when I was nine years old, until their deaths. I have dealt with this alone, and worked in my father's shadow since I became an adult and gained ownership. But it's time this company admits what it was built on and apologizes. Not to me, but to every child out there that has to go through what I went through. I'm apologizing for not stepping forward sooner and for allowing this company to be named after one amazing man, and one  _ rapist _ which is why, from today forward, this is no longer Vasiliev & Vasiliev Publishings but rather Astankova's Twelve after the twelve different magazines we publish. I took the last name Astankova after my parents' death because my grandmother's maiden name was Astankova. She took care of me and made sure… nothing was wrong with me even if my mother and father threatened her."  _ And eventually probably is the reason she died. _ "Konstantin and I both came to the agreement that that is the type of person we want to honor with our company. Now, he has a few more words he would like to say." 

Villanelle lifts up her phone and steps away from the podium as there's a 90-10 mixture of cheerings and boos from the audience. 

There's a sickness in Villanelle's stomach and she knows Konstantin is giving a closing speech but she walks off the stage and immediately has her bodyguards escort her out the back and through two buildings before getting her to her car. It prevents any paparazzi or anyone from following her and even on her way home she doubles around to make sure she isn't followed.

Before exiting her car she calls Eve.

"Villanelle, that was-"

"I didn't bring anyone."

"Are you still okay with everyone being here?"  _ Oh yeah. That whole group. _

Villanelle wanted to say know and tell Eve to kick everyone out but she knew how big of a step Eve was taking today just like Villanelle took.

"Of course. You want me to meet your friends." Villanelle exits her car and glances both way before going to Eve's door.

"Sure, but-"

She rings Eve's doorbell.

"Is that you?"

"Yes."

The line goes dead and Villanelle waits for Eve to swing the door open. She just needs Eve to ground her right now.

Villanelle counts the seconds in her head before Eve opens the door. 

129.

"Did you leave the office right away?" Eve askes before greeting her.

Villanelle steps in and looks down at Eve, knowing her eyes are dilated and darting over Eve in a relaxed white cashmere sweater over black leggings. Black hair is tied lazily on the top of her head and her glasses hang low on her nose.

Eve looks stunning as always. 

Villanelle's lips are parted and she takes a deep breath in before sighing. "Yes. I wanted to see you."

"Okay, well as long as you don't mind, Bill, Keiko, Kenny and Elena are upstairs. Keiko brought flowers for you."

"Do they want to ask about...?" Villanelle asks while lifting her each foot up and hooking her heels off. 

"They won't ask anything you don't want to tell them." Eve closes the door and does the lock.

Villanelle presses Eve against the door and savors the wine on her lips that makes her taste even sweeter than normal. She doesn't trying to get in a quickie, that thought far from her mind, but rather grounds herself to the here and now. To Eve.

She pulls away, leaving her forehead against Eve's. 

_ I love you _ .

She doesn't say it, neither of them do, but it's breathed into the air between them.

Then Villanelle is guided upstairs with soft, small hands wrapped around one of her large ones.

"Hello," Bill greets, standing up to come shake her hand. His wife, Keiko, follows behind him. They greet themselves, Keiko having a much stronger and reassuring handshake than Bill. "Elena and Kenny are-"

"Right here," Elena says while Kenny follows behind her carrying a pitcher of water. "Eve's mentioned you don't drink."

"As much as I appreciate the gesture. I think today deserves a drink."

Villanelle's fingers dance against Eve's wrist. Eve looks up at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Villanelle gives Eve a tight lip smile, different than her one in the confines of Eve's office. Then she's off to greet Elena and Kenny, the latter being awkward at the interaction. 

"Okay, well we-uh-" Eve steps away from Villanelle and walks over to the bar cart. "We don't have champagne, but we have-"

"Anything is good, Eve," Villanelle says over her shoulder before making herself comfortable in the only black piece of furniture in the room. Legs crossed like a lady and looking absolutely relaxed.

The complete opposite of Eve who is panicking about what to give Villanelle. Not vodka. That would be too much of an assumption just because she's Russian. Tequila? Then Villanelle would make a joke about Eve getting her drunk. Villanelle didn't seem like she would want a sugary mixed drink. Rum was Niko's drink and Eve didn't dare give it to Villanelle. Those were too opposites that never needed to cross. So Eve settles on the Hibiki 21 year old whiskey. Not only is it the most expensive drink on the cart, it was the only one she felt fit the blonde. A sweet, strong flavor with oak, caramel, and fruit. A perfect mixture of masculinity and femininity. 

Villanelle fell into easy small talk with Eve's friends while Eve grabbed one of her stone glasses she ordered to match the coffee table. Eve walks over and hands it to Villanelle, the latter making sure she gripped Eve's entire hand before taking the glass.

"I was just telling Bill and Keiko how it's like we were made for each other."

"Oh?" Eve asks, she perches her self on the arm of the chair Villanelle sat in and tries to look as suave as her. Villanelle could tell Eve was even more anxious than her. Not only was Villanelle much younger compared to her, she was and is Eve's patient. "And why is that?"

Villanelle pointed at the painting across from her with the same hand holding the glass of whiskey she hasn't tried yet. "I walk into your house and you have my painting hanging when you don't even know who painted the damn thing." Villanelle laughs and shakes her head. "It's like you're drawn to me." She watches Eve carefully as she brings the whiskey up to her mouth and takes a sip. 

She knew her and Eve were destined for each other the moment she walked in the office. It terrified her.

Now it doesn't. Yet for Eve's sake, she makes it seem like there romance never occurred in the office and was only because of perfect timed chances out of the office.

She savors those chances the same way she savors the whiskey.

Eyes falling shut as she enjoys the sip, Villanelle's tongue darts out to lick her lips and then she opens her eyes to look at Eve. "This is divine, Eve."

"Thank you," Eve replies as her stomach still twists, albeit for different reasons.

"I get why people become alcoholics." Villanelle laughs, deeper and more refined. "I doubt many things taste much better than this."

The room laughs, except Eve who just stares at Villanelle's casual flirting. Villanelle smiles and squeezes Eve's knee with her free hand, the comfortee because the comforter.

"Do you still have the original?" Bill asks, returning to the conversation.

"Yes. I offered it to Eve and got it out of storage, she's just refused to come get it from my home."

"Where do you live?" Elena slides into the conversation.

"In the penthouse on top of the Villanelle office. Figured it would only be appropriate for me to have a huge sign of my name on the place I live."

"That's across from where Eve and me work," Elena points out and looks at Eve.

If looks could kill, Eve would have both her hands wrapped around Elena's neck.

"Yes. Eve's mentioned you two work at the counseling office over there while she was helping me figure out which dress to wear today. I was stuck between two dresses but I think Eve made the right choice, yes?" Villanelle handles it more than Eve. Maintains a cool head while offering a harsh stare and the quickest glance to Keiko. It makes Elena's tense and Villanelle knows her point has gotten across.

"Oh, definitely."

"100 percent."

"You looked lovely."

Elena, Keiko, and Bill reply at the same time. There was a notibible silence from Kenny. They laugh it off and Bill speaks, "That couldn't have been easy."

Villanelle leans back and takes another sip before responding. "It was probably easier than it should have been. I probably should have cried."

"No," Eve speaks up. "You looked honest up there. It was a fantastic speech, Villanelle."

"Thank you, Eve. Coming across honest was one of Konstantin's worries since my father is so loved. He didn't want people trying to accuse me of lying."

"I don't think anyone thought that," Elena informs her and reaches for her beer. "I think everyone's just glad to see someone like you. You know, been through fucked up shit but not blow your brains out."

"Elena!" Bill scolds. For a therapist, Elena is quite blunt.

Villanelle laughs and waves a hand. "No, it's fine. I won't say that thought never went through my mind. Nor will I say the thought of doing what my mom did to my father never went through my mind, but even back then, I knew I was made to be great. So they never lasted very long.'

"Don't you worry that sounds arrogant?" Kenny finally speaks up. 

"Is it arrogance if it's true?" Villanelle replies. "I like to think everyone in the world is born with a purpose. We can try to deny who we are, change for certain people we think we love or because we think we have to, but we will end up being who we are meant to be." Villanelle finishes the statement with looking at Eve and finishing her whiskey. 

All the while it seems to make Kenny relax too. She wants him to know she's not the same person who fucked Hugo just to hurt him or the one ready to jump him for knowing about Anna. She also wants him to know he should stop denying himself and changing himself for his mom. 

As everyone, including Eve and Kenny, relaxes, Villanelle feels an inner peace with finally coming out with her truth and having a wordless truce with someone she used to consider a friend. 

Her phone began ringing in her pocket. Everyone got quiet and she immediately stood, letting Eve take her seat. If someone was calling her phone than it had to be important. "I'm going to take this downstairs and then I'll be right back." 

Eve grabbed her hand and squeezed it with a confusingly hopeful smile. Villanelle felt the wrinkles above her eyebrows fold because she walked downstairs.

"Hello, this is Villanelle Astankova speaking."

"Uh…" the voice trailed off, "this is Martin Akhtar. I was the-"

"The one who said I was a psychopath. I remember."

"Yes. That. I did that...didn't I? Well… I watched your press conference tonight."

"Okay?" Villanelle asked and rolled her eyes. "Are you going to tell me that I was lying the-"

"I want to know if you want to come in Monday morning. Let me have an evaluation. I think it would be very beneficial for both of us."

Villanelle shook her head and bit her passive aggressive reply. "Yes, just get a hold of my assistant for the time. Goodbye, Martin." She hung up and walked upstairs.

The group was lost in conversation and didn't notice her return upstairs so Villanelle just watched for a moment. In that moment she saw Eve was happy, but it wasn't until Eve sensed her and made eye contact that Eve truly glowed. She knew what that phone call was and Villanelle nodded. 

Then Eve gestured her over and instead of sitting on the arm of the chair next to Eve, she smiled and then sat down beside Kenny. Her knee knocked against his and he stared in surprise for only a moment before laughing and catching her up on what she missed in the conversation. She caught Eve's eye once more and mouthed I love you, Eve returning the words back as fast as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I graduated high school. Fell out of love with Killing Eve. Still don't care for it but I do want to finish this fic. I think there's like six more chapters. I'm truly sorry it's not the fully fleshed out story orginally planned. Life just happens, and I focused on myself, school, and getting to a point where I was completely happy before forcing myself to write this fic. And thanks to amazing friends, I can truly say I am happy now. So I'm going to try to force myself to get this fic done before the new years for you guys who love this fic and I'm going to try to do it justice. There might be retconning or plot holes because I don't remember my thought process for this fic as I was a totally different person than I am now writing this. I have actually also been writing and working on a lot of orginal stuff too. I'm in a really good place finally, and I hope that everyone who reads this note is able to reach that point to. There is bad days, there is really bad days, but for the first time in a long time, I got to think to myself, the future is going to be good and everything is going to be okay. Even when it doesn't seem like it, it will be okay.   
> I appreciate everyone who comments on this fic, reads this fic, shares this fic, tweets about it, and falls in love with it. I appreciate everyone who reads the summary and decides it's not for them. I appreciate everyone who used to like the fic but gave up because of my long time between updates or because of the change in my writing style. I might not be super in the KE Fandom rn during hiatus over on my twitter @JClawesome, but I am so appreciative of the friends I made through there, and every single person I've met on there because everyone who comes in our lives helps us grow no matter how that ends.   
> But most of all I am so appreciative of my best friends who during the times between this update and the last, have been there for me through so much and supported me and helped me through a really low period to being in a good place again. I love them so much.
> 
> I hope this makes people happy seeing an update, I hope you guys enjoyed the update, and I hope every single person who sees this no matter what continues to grow because that's all humans can do.
> 
> KE Fandom Twitter: @JClawesome  
> Video Game Twitter: @YeehawHatJo


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